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 Russia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crispy Ambulance to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tommy Roe,
10cc,
Technova,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lindisfarne,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harry Pussy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Seeds,
John Lydon,
Q and Not U,
Sarah Menescal,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ice-T,
Mr. Review,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bluetip,
Sparks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Royal Trux,
Absolute Body Control,
Colin Newman,
Brothers Johnson,
Donny Hathaway,
Los Fastidios,
Crash Course in Science,
New Age Steppers,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeru the Damaja,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Freddie Wadling,
Severed Heads,
John Cale,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Half Japanese,
The Red Krayola,
Kenny Larkin,
the Bar-Kays,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lou Christie,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
In Retrospect,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Residents,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Tomorrow,
The Moleskins,
Nico,
Boredoms,
Stiv Bators,
Deadbeat,
The Mummies,
Liliput,
June of 44,
Barry Ungar,
Derrick May,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Style,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.