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 Turkmenistan and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Saccharine Trust,
Accadde A,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mantronix,
Rites of Spring,
Liliput,
Make Up,
Brand Nubian,
Kaleidoscope,
June of 44,
Throbbing Gristle,
Monks,
Roxette,
Swans,
Subhumans,
PIL,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marmalade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hardrive,
Lou Reed,
Das Ding,
Yaz,
Freddie Wadling,
AZ,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minutemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Prince Buster,
Ossler,
Ten City,
The Pretty Things,
Pole,
David McCallum,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Darondo,
The Remains,
Basic Channel,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Happenings,
Los Fastidios,
Traffic Nightmare,
Television Personalities,
Amon Düül II,
Althea and Donna,
Von Mondo,
Symarip,
The Gories,
Sound Behaviour,
The Tremeloes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Brass Construction,
Lungfish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Human League,
Gang Starr,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Star Department,
Jandek,
Radiohead,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.