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 Afghanistan and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Motorama to the funk 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Underground Resistance,
Kevin Saunderson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
DNA,
Man Parrish,
Cluster,
The Dead C,
Altered Images,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Darondo,
kango's stein massive,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric Copeland,
Bill Near,
the Bar-Kays,
Quadrant,
David Bowie,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
John Lydon,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Moleskins,
Main Source,
Mad Mike,
Sam Rivers,
Josef K,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Bourne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
One Last Wish,
Slick Rick,
The Associates,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Almond,
the Sonics,
Quando Quango,
Pulsallama,
Von Mondo,
Grey Daturas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Golliwogs,
The Gun Club,
Oblivians,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tres Demented,
Ken Boothe,
Aswad,
Terry Callier,
Deakin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fear,
Flash Fearless,
Lalann,
Faraquet,
Royal Trux,
DJ Style,
The Pop Group,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.