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 Togo and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the dance 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Rufus Thomas,
Radio Birdman,
Niagra,
Grauzone,
The Golliwogs,
Ronnie Foster,
Warsaw,
The Durutti Column,
Charles Mingus,
John Foxx,
H. Thieme,
Maurizio,
Public Enemy,
Skaos,
Gastr Del Sol,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Malaria!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
DNA,
Kenny Larkin,
Surgeon,
Shuggie Otis,
Heaven 17,
Organ,
Ossler,
Alton Ellis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Janne Schatter,
The Grass Roots,
Con Funk Shun,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Names,
Joey Negro,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scratch Acid,
Drive Like Jehu,
Von Mondo,
Roger Hodgson,
The Dirtbombs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Cale,
Quantec,
Peter and Kerry,
The Kinks,
Motorama,
Quadrant,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scion,
The Fugs,
Ten City,
Country Teasers,
China Crisis,
Joyce Sims,
Wire,
Theoretical Girls,
Pole,
Whodini,
Simply Red,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.