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 Turkmenistan and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Slits to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
JFA,
Mark Hollis,
The American Breed,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Skatalites,
10cc,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric Copeland,
Sandy B,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Holt,
Talk Talk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Associates,
Clear Light,
Aaron Thompson,
Idris Muhammad,
Surgeon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pantaleimon,
China Crisis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Janne Schatter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marc Almond,
Aloha Tigers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Smoke,
Ponytail,
Scientists,
Dual Sessions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Minutemen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
DJ Sneak,
Yellowson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Guru Guru,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
UT,
Parry Music,
The Offenders,
X-101,
Minny Pops,
Amon Düül II,
Shoche,
Pylon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New York Dolls,
Sällskapet,
The Durutti Column,
Dave Gahan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cymande,
Henry Cow,
Kas Product,
Quadrant,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Suburban Knight,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.