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 Albania and from Stockholm.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Model 500 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Dead Boys,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lou Christie,
Todd Terry,
Newcleus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Carl Craig,
Rod Modell,
Dawn Penn,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Martian,
The Mummies,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DNA,
The Busters,
Camouflage,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wolf Eyes,
Babytalk,
Arab on Radar,
Dave Gahan,
Schoolly D,
Anakelly,
MDC,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tres Demented,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Reuben Wilson,
Flipper,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Unwound,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kerri Chandler,
Yellowson,
The Litter,
Crispian St. Peters,
H. Thieme,
Trumans Water,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soft Machine,
Cluster,
Amazonics,
Minor Threat,
The Barracudas,
Graham Central Station,
Frankie Knuckles,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Pretty Things,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cheater Slicks,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Neon Judgement,
Altered Images,
Scratch Acid,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pere Ubu,
Mission of Burma,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.