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 Mongolia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Dave Gahan to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
The Martian,
The Sonics,
The Misunderstood,
Iggy Pop,
Circle Jerks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Delta 5,
Lalann,
Schoolly D,
Morten Harket,
Fluxion,
Subhumans,
The Skatalites,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Michelle Simonal,
Porter Ricks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Shoche,
The Divine Comedy,
Easy Going,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Moon,
Alison Limerick,
Nils Olav,
The Music Machine,
The Techniques,
Kas Product,
Robert Wyatt,
Vladislav Delay,
DJ Sneak,
Minny Pops,
Flash Fearless,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The J.B.'s,
Chris & Cosey,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wally Richardson,
Wasted Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
MC5,
Wire,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Altered Images,
Intrusion,
The Fortunes,
Animal Collective,
Television,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tommy Roe,
Aswad,
Q and Not U,
David Axelrod,
Index,
Dark Day,
cv313,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.