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 Ethiopia and from Taipei.
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 Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
DNA,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Panda Bear,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kenny Larkin,
Nik Kershaw,
Scan 7,
Eli Mardock,
48th St. Collective,
UT,
Sun Ra,
Blossom Toes,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Toasters,
H. Thieme,
Jerry's Kids,
Pulsallama,
Harry Pussy,
Nas,
Schoolly D,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sällskapet,
Spandau Ballet,
Tom Boy,
The Alarm Clocks,
La Düsseldorf,
Young Marble Giants,
OOIOO,
Hoover,
Boredoms,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joyce Sims,
Erykah Badu,
The Red Krayola,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Association,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Foxx,
X-102,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Whodini,
The Names,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sandy B,
Carl Craig,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Mojo Men,
Prince Buster,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Hood,
The Gap Band,
Ohio Players,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tim Buckley,
Quando Quango,
The Slits,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.