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 Albania and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sight & Sound to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Eric Copeland,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Bananas,
Mission of Burma,
Tim Buckley,
Laurel Aitken,
Scratch Acid,
The Human League,
The Fire Engines,
Marmalade,
The United States of America,
Tres Demented,
Von Mondo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Monks,
The Last Poets,
Eurythmics,
The Grass Roots,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quadrant,
These Immortal Souls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Procol Harum,
Outsiders,
DJ Style,
John Foxx,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Bourne,
Cybotron,
The Seeds,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dawn Penn,
Franke,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cameo,
Aswad,
Kenny Larkin,
Roxette,
The Doors,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bizarre Inc.,
Oneida,
Robert Hood,
Lalo Schifrin,
Funky Four + One,
The Sound,
Yellowson,
Pole,
The Cure,
Nik Kershaw,
John Holt,
Pierre Henry,
Inner City,
The Music Machine,
Desert Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Judy Mowatt,
Amon Düül,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.