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 Suriname and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the crunk 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin 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 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Morten Harket,
Toni Rubio,
Terry Callier,
The Vogues,
The Misunderstood,
June Days,
Rapeman,
Kurtis Blow,
Duran Duran,
Mantronix,
Stereo Dub,
Radio Birdman,
Deepchord,
The Zeros,
the Slits,
Popol Vuh,
The Gap Band,
Supertramp,
Crime,
Rites of Spring,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yellowson,
Pere Ubu,
These Immortal Souls,
Sex Pistols,
The Moody Blues,
Terrestrial Tones,
Magma,
In Retrospect,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric Copeland,
James White and The Blacks,
Alison Limerick,
The Gladiators,
Scion,
Schoolly D,
The Moleskins,
Second Layer,
Henry Cow,
Organ,
Faraquet,
Max Romeo,
Sun Ra,
Erykah Badu,
Swell Maps,
Judy Mowatt,
CMW,
F. McDonald,
The Seeds,
Oblivians,
Jeff Lynne,
Vainqueur,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fortunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Lydon,
Lalann,
Accadde A,
Ultra Naté,
Q and Not U,
Man Parrish,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.