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 Tonga and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Alison Limerick,
The Sound,
X-101,
Royal Trux,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gregory Isaacs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Misunderstood,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Dirtbombs,
Sex Pistols,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Music Machine,
Guru Guru,
Sixth Finger,
Kool Moe Dee,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bad Manners,
Kenny Larkin,
Lightning Bolt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Wake,
Talk Talk,
Magma,
The Index,
Funkadelic,
B.T. Express,
Darondo,
Warren Ellis,
Slave,
Half Japanese,
Lalo Schifrin,
Schoolly D,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tim Buckley,
Hoover,
The Associates,
Bootsy Collins,
Glenn Branca,
The Fire Engines,
Can,
Young Marble Giants,
Ice-T,
Aaron Thompson,
the Human League,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swell Maps,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Pus,
Eddi Front,
The Evens,
Davy DMX,
Amazonics,
Eurythmics,
Pantaleimon,
Black Bananas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.