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 South Africa and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Philadelphia and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Oblivians to the grime 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
KRS-One,
Toni Rubio,
The Star Department,
Ronnie Foster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mojo Men,
The Black Dice,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Litter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hardrive,
Slave,
X-102,
The Flesh Eaters,
Half Japanese,
Howard Jones,
Pole,
The Kinks,
Sixth Finger,
Nico,
Inner City,
Pierre Henry,
Motorama,
New Age Steppers,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Vladislav Delay,
Bill Wells,
Rhythm & Sound,
JFA,
Sparks,
Bob Dylan,
Robert Wyatt,
June Days,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sex Pistols,
Vainqueur,
Deepchord,
Kaleidoscope,
Roger Hodgson,
D'Angelo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Human League,
Kas Product,
The Beau Brummels,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crash Course in Science,
The J.B.'s,
The Standells,
Rod Modell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Amon Düül II,
The Tremeloes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jacques Brel,
Magma,
Fear,
MC5,
Echospace,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.