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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ice-T to the electroclash 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
The Mummies,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Swans,
Boredoms,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gang Starr,
Barbara Tucker,
Country Teasers,
Black Flag,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moss Icon,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Coltrane,
Cal Tjader,
Josef K,
Joey Negro,
Sarah Menescal,
Brand Nubian,
Dark Day,
Quantec,
Cymande,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The J.B.'s,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Birthday Party,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Womack,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
LL Cool J,
Von Mondo,
New Order,
Sun Ra,
Grey Daturas,
The Move,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Monks,
Stetsasonic,
Nick Fraelich,
OOIOO,
Cybotron,
Bluetip,
Malaria!,
DJ Sneak,
Barry Ungar,
The Raincoats,
Yellowson,
The Trojans,
Reagan Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Colin Newman,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Erykah Badu,
Fela Kuti,
Judy Mowatt,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.