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 Laos and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Das Ding to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
DJ Sneak,
The Vogues,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Red Krayola,
The Fire Engines,
Marc Almond,
Hoover,
Black Sheep,
Henry Cow,
June Days,
Soul II Soul,
Nils Olav,
Bush Tetras,
the Bar-Kays,
Andrew Hill,
The Pretty Things,
Agent Orange,
Max Romeo,
Pere Ubu,
Harry Pussy,
Sarah Menescal,
Anakelly,
Lalann,
Joe Finger,
The Cramps,
E-Dancer,
Scion,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Standells,
Gang of Four,
Das Ding,
X-101,
The New Christs,
Byron Stingily,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jeff Mills,
Letta Mbulu,
Intrusion,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Liliput,
Depeche Mode,
John Coltrane,
Erasure,
the Soft Cell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bang On A Can,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ten City,
Terry Callier,
Althea and Donna,
Fugazi,
Kerri Chandler,
Mr. Review,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scientists,
Qualms,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.