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 Cameroon and from Mexico City.
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 Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Radiohead to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
L. Decosne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Vogues,
MDC,
Minnie Riperton,
Arthur Verocai,
Deepchord,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pantytec,
Popol Vuh,
the Normal,
Anakelly,
Sparks,
Todd Rundgren,
Eurythmics,
Rotary Connection,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fugs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Loose Ends,
Cecil Taylor,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bootsy Collins,
John Lydon,
Wire,
Howard Jones,
Nils Olav,
Rapeman,
Bobby Womack,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Livin' Joy,
X-102,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bad Manners,
Chrome,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
K-Klass,
In Retrospect,
cv313,
Babytalk,
Section 25,
Tom Boy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Todd Terry,
Ohio Players,
Yellowson,
Letta Mbulu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blossom Toes,
Silicon Teens,
The Moleskins,
The Kinks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Donald Byrd,
Depeche Mode,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.