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 Albania and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gabor Szabo to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Deepchord,
Quantec,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Slits,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Flag,
The Doors,
Scratch Acid,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Brass Construction,
Leonard Cohen,
Dorothy Ashby,
June of 44,
Scion,
Organ,
Easy Going,
The Remains,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Theoretical Girls,
Make Up,
Kerrie Biddell,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Cure,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Skriet,
The Sound,
X-102,
Gabor Szabo,
Derrick May,
Flipper,
AZ,
Harry Pussy,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nas,
Donny Hathaway,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Robert Görl,
Suicide,
The Human League,
The Fuzztones,
Hasil Adkins,
Soft Machine,
Roy Ayers,
Duran Duran,
Todd Terry,
Pere Ubu,
Bill Wells,
Animal Collective,
Slick Rick,
Amon Düül,
Drive Like Jehu,
Prince Buster,
Deadbeat,
Pylon,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.