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 Lebanon and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Young Marble Giants to the grime 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
The Index,
Howard Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
Roxy Music,
Easy Going,
The Leaves,
Anthony Braxton,
Colin Newman,
The Smiths,
Faust,
Maleditus Sound,
Aaron Thompson,
Negative Approach,
Ronnie Foster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Move,
The Modern Lovers,
Livin' Joy,
Monks,
Sam Rivers,
Black Sheep,
Idris Muhammad,
Rotary Connection,
Toni Rubio,
The Moody Blues,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barrington Levy,
Amon Düül II,
E-Dancer,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Toasters,
Country Teasers,
Sex Pistols,
Sun Ra,
Urselle,
Letta Mbulu,
the Swans,
Moebius,
Metal Thangz,
Parry Music,
X-102,
Eve St. Jones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roxette,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Wasted Youth,
Graham Central Station,
Underground Resistance,
The Real Kids,
Bill Near,
The Kinks,
Sandy B,
Freddie Wadling,
Duran Duran,
Rufus Thomas,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.