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 Mauritania and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cymande to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Steve Hackett,
Sällskapet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jacob Miller,
Bill Near,
Radiopuhelimet,
Warren Ellis,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tomorrow,
R.M.O.,
Skriet,
The Leaves,
Rites of Spring,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mr. Review,
Black Bananas,
China Crisis,
Gang of Four,
Depeche Mode,
Aloha Tigers,
Average White Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Supertramp,
The Seeds,
Japan,
Blancmange,
Scan 7,
Fatback Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Agitation Free,
Mark Hollis,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Association,
Bob Dylan,
The Walker Brothers,
T. Rex,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Slick Rick,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tears for Fears,
Pierre Henry,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Spandau Ballet,
Pulsallama,
The Raincoats,
The Dirtbombs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Half Japanese,
Bootsy Collins,
D'Angelo,
Pantaleimon,
The Slackers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Max Romeo,
Radiohead,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.