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 the UAE and from Calgary.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cal Tjader to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Con Funk Shun,
Throbbing Gristle,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Main Source,
Ponytail,
Pylon,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gap Band,
Drexciya,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Five Americans,
Spandau Ballet,
Motorama,
H. Thieme,
Marvin Gaye,
The Music Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Kerrie Biddell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scrapy,
The Remains,
Lalann,
John Lydon,
The Pretty Things,
The Misunderstood,
The Slits,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hasil Adkins,
Bill Wells,
Symarip,
Monks,
Kayak,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scientists,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Angry Samoans,
Negative Approach,
Jandek,
John Holt,
Spoonie Gee,
the Germs,
Graham Central Station,
Soft Cell,
Barbara Tucker,
Yaz,
the Human League,
Yellowson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terry Callier,
Skarface,
The Durutti Column,
Shuggie Otis,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sonics,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Techniques,
The Move,
Joyce Sims,
James White and The Blacks,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.