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 Kiribati and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Prince Buster,
Bizarre Inc.,
Depeche Mode,
The Barracudas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kenny Larkin,
Kerrie Biddell,
World's Most,
Goldenarms,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amon Düül,
The Residents,
Bootsy Collins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Golliwogs,
Cecil Taylor,
Vainqueur,
Ronan,
Brass Construction,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Matthew Bourne,
LL Cool J,
Dark Day,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Toasters,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jeff Lynne,
Wolf Eyes,
Clear Light,
Robert Hood,
Intrusion,
Quando Quango,
Eric Copeland,
The Last Poets,
Oneida,
Arab on Radar,
Dave Gahan,
Gang of Four,
Godley & Creme,
Index,
Stiv Bators,
The Cure,
Rufus Thomas,
Rosa Yemen,
Faust,
Arthur Verocai,
the Sonics,
Kool Moe Dee,
Half Japanese,
The United States of America,
Crime,
Fear,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Franke,
Lungfish,
Alton Ellis,
Bob Dylan,
the Human League,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.