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 Guatemala and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Pere Ubu to the funk 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Black Moon,
Minnie Riperton,
Bill Wells,
Deadbeat,
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Reed,
Johnny Clarke,
Bluetip,
Talk Talk,
Cecil Taylor,
Pulsallama,
Arthur Verocai,
Make Up,
Visage,
kango's stein massive,
The Raincoats,
Siglo XX,
Steve Hackett,
Bang On A Can,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Davy DMX,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang Green,
Shuggie Otis,
The Martian,
The Sonics,
Little Man,
The Monochrome Set,
Iggy Pop,
Arab on Radar,
Stetsasonic,
Con Funk Shun,
Juan Atkins,
Charles Mingus,
the Human League,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Howard Jones,
The Moody Blues,
Frankie Knuckles,
Main Source,
Infiniti,
Alice Coltrane,
The Victims,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ten City,
The Flesh Eaters,
Porter Ricks,
Dave Gahan,
Rites of Spring,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fear,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Donald Byrd,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mr. Review,
Janne Schatter,
Bob Dylan,
Bill Near,
Kayak,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.