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 Vanuatu and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Robert Wyatt to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Nick Fraelich,
The Litter,
Sällskapet,
Erasure,
David Bowie,
The Move,
Scientists,
Hashim,
Brass Construction,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crooked Eye,
Dawn Penn,
Jerry's Kids,
The Golliwogs,
The Buckinghams,
Average White Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Letta Mbulu,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Smiths,
Johnny Clarke,
Magma,
Amazonics,
Surgeon,
Graham Central Station,
Aural Exciters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Suburban Knight,
Youth Brigade,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Barrington Levy,
Bootsy Collins,
Altered Images,
Scott Walker,
Quando Quango,
The Techniques,
Yellowson,
Lou Reed,
The Sound,
Crime,
Livin' Joy,
Organ,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Spoonie Gee,
Carl Craig,
The Last Poets,
Barry Ungar,
The Sonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cheater Slicks,
Albert Ayler,
Parry Music,
Idris Muhammad,
Sam Rivers,
Zero Boys,
Arab on Radar,
The Index,
Franke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rod Modell,
Sun City Girls,
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.