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 Comoros and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bush Tetras to the grime 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mummies,
Skaos,
Half Japanese,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Pus,
Ohio Players,
Crash Course in Science,
Kayak,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eurythmics,
A Certain Ratio,
The Angels of Light,
Intrusion,
Reagan Youth,
Robert Hood,
Alton Ellis,
X-102,
Roy Ayers,
The Trojans,
the Slits,
The Leaves,
Byron Stingily,
Morten Harket,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marvin Gaye,
Lower 48,
New York Dolls,
The Selecter,
Lyres,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wally Richardson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vladislav Delay,
Popol Vuh,
Index,
Lou Reed,
Symarip,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Fortunes,
Isaac Hayes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Alison Limerick,
Aloha Tigers,
Scott Walker,
T. Rex,
Bobby Womack,
Man Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
Royal Trux,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Siglo XX,
Jerry's Kids,
The Wake,
Grey Daturas,
Michelle Simonal,
Slave,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.