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 Fiji and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Holger Czukay 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Audionom,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
PIL,
Can,
Clear Light,
The Index,
Sex Pistols,
The Moody Blues,
Ten City,
The Slits,
Talk Talk,
Inner City,
Agent Orange,
Flamin' Groovies,
Monolake,
Ohio Players,
Silicon Teens,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jeff Lynne,
Shoche,
Bobby Byrd,
Eve St. Jones,
Quantec,
Eric B and Rakim,
Funkadelic,
The Last Poets,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bob Dylan,
Robert Görl,
Lower 48,
Soulsonic Force,
Cybotron,
AZ,
The Shadows of Knight,
Derrick May,
Dawn Penn,
Tomorrow,
Barbara Tucker,
Reagan Youth,
LL Cool J,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thee Headcoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Shuggie Otis,
Deepchord,
Y Pants,
Oblivians,
Scion,
David Bowie,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
New York Dolls,
Joey Negro,
The American Breed,
Siglo XX,
E-Dancer,
T. Rex,
Model 500,
Wally Richardson,
Roy Ayers,
Lucky Dragons,
Ice-T,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.