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 Thailand 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro 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 Funkadelic to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Unwound,
Average White Band,
Warsaw,
Robert Wyatt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tres Demented,
The Dead C,
Roxette,
The Litter,
Eric Copeland,
Neil Young,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yaz,
The Human League,
H. Thieme,
Don Cherry,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter and Kerry,
Shoche,
The Pretty Things,
Niagra,
The Pop Group,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Star Department,
Amon Düül II,
June of 44,
Bang On A Can,
The Leaves,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Slackers,
Guru Guru,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Thompson Twins,
Charles Mingus,
Amon Düül,
Ultimate Spinach,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moss Icon,
Anthony Braxton,
Kurtis Blow,
Pierre Henry,
China Crisis,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed,
Soft Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Görl,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lindisfarne,
Pet Shop Boys,
a-ha,
E-Dancer,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mr. Review,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
MC5,
Drexciya,
Dark Day,
The United States of America,
Qualms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.