Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Indonesia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ten City to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Pylon,
The Dirtbombs,
48th St. Collective,
Minutemen,
Susan Cadogan,
Laurel Aitken,
Wasted Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crime,
Colin Newman,
Tom Boy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Reuben Wilson,
Funky Four + One,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Agent Orange,
Crooked Eye,
Leonard Cohen,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Index,
The Seeds,
Black Moon,
the Association,
ABC,
Anakelly,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fela Kuti,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pantaleimon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Germs,
Iggy Pop,
Sex Pistols,
Mission of Burma,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jandek,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Saccharine Trust,
the Sonics,
Gregory Isaacs,
New Order,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bluetip,
Smog,
Erykah Badu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rufus Thomas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dave Gahan,
Tim Buckley,
Ken Boothe,
The Moody Blues,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
KRS-One,
Visage,
The Move,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric B and Rakim,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Pop Group,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.