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 Chile and from Woodstock.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Niagra,
Sun Ra,
Ronnie Foster,
Smog,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Franke,
Tim Buckley,
Ultravox,
Talk Talk,
Peter & Gordon,
Echospace,
Technova,
Monks,
The Black Dice,
Crispy Ambulance,
Idris Muhammad,
Bush Tetras,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Steve Hackett,
Quantec,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gregory Isaacs,
Yazoo,
Sound Behaviour,
The J.B.'s,
Black Moon,
Kurtis Blow,
Skaos,
The Slackers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Grauzone,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fortunes,
X-101,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Holt,
The Pretty Things,
Electric Prunes,
Hasil Adkins,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Red Krayola,
Young Marble Giants,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lou Reed,
Deakin,
Warren Ellis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joensuu 1685,
The Golliwogs,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Pop Group,
Rakim,
Von Mondo,
Youth Brigade,
Spandau Ballet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Happenings,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.