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 Panama and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eddi Front to the grime 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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Marc Almond,
Hasil Adkins,
The Walker Brothers,
David McCallum,
Idris Muhammad,
Popol Vuh,
Amazonics,
Isaac Hayes,
James White and The Blacks,
New Order,
Urselle,
Goldenarms,
These Immortal Souls,
R.M.O.,
Pere Ubu,
Tres Demented,
Curtis Mayfield,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Derrick Morgan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sällskapet,
Sun Ra,
Flash Fearless,
The Cowsills,
The Velvet Underground,
Visage,
Wolf Eyes,
Procol Harum,
Wally Richardson,
The Last Poets,
Rhythm & Sound,
Erasure,
The Saints,
H. Thieme,
kango's stein massive,
Camouflage,
Lindisfarne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marine Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
Sister Nancy,
Oneida,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Zero Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Real Kids,
Shoche,
Bauhaus,
Sex Pistols,
Monolake,
ABC,
Radio Birdman,
June Days,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ultravox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Monks,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.