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 Antigua and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pagans to the rock 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
PIL,
the Swans,
F. McDonald,
Accadde A,
The Index,
Deadbeat,
Sandy B,
Amazonics,
Country Teasers,
Tomorrow,
The Stooges,
Kurtis Blow,
the Germs,
Robert Wyatt,
Patti Smith,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Real Kids,
Shuggie Otis,
John Foxx,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cure,
Tres Demented,
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fall,
Marshall Jefferson,
Chris Corsano,
Organ,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jeff Mills,
Flipper,
Depeche Mode,
Kenny Larkin,
Janne Schatter,
Excepter,
Cameo,
The Black Dice,
Gabor Szabo,
Intrusion,
Ronan,
Minny Pops,
The Knickerbockers,
June of 44,
Nick Fraelich,
ABBA,
The American Breed,
Traffic Nightmare,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Motions,
Scrapy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stiv Bators,
Mars,
Sugar Minott,
Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Newcleus,
Sex Pistols,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.