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 Benin and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Alison Limerick to the punk 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Saccharine Trust,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fela Kuti,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ornette Coleman,
Masters at Work,
Todd Terry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Susan Cadogan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Quantec,
Talk Talk,
The Dirtbombs,
Howard Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Juan Atkins,
Mandrill,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cure,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cybotron,
Minny Pops,
Anakelly,
Deepchord,
David Axelrod,
Nick Fraelich,
Soft Machine,
Circle Jerks,
Lindisfarne,
Henry Cow,
Ken Boothe,
The Busters,
Rod Modell,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Glambeats Corp.,
Max Romeo,
Joe Smooth,
Alton Ellis,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Reed,
Scratch Acid,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Soul Sonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lalo Schifrin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Martian,
The Remains,
Malaria!,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hashim,
Severed Heads,
The Alarm Clocks,
Symarip,
Barrington Levy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Foxx,
Donald Byrd,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.