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 Rwanda and from Edmonton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
The Fugs,
Cluster,
Gabor Szabo,
Wally Richardson,
Basic Channel,
Pole,
Peter and Kerry,
U.S. Maple,
Porter Ricks,
Aloha Tigers,
Minor Threat,
Stereo Dub,
Warsaw,
John Holt,
The American Breed,
Severed Heads,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Association,
Spoonie Gee,
CMW,
The Cowsills,
Echospace,
Toni Rubio,
K-Klass,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Motorama,
Cheater Slicks,
Marmalade,
Rapeman,
JFA,
Marine Girls,
L. Decosne,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joyce Sims,
Sex Pistols,
Quando Quango,
Dark Day,
Hot Snakes,
Bootsy Collins,
Michelle Simonal,
The Selecter,
Hoover,
Curtis Mayfield,
Icehouse,
Bluetip,
Excepter,
Silicon Teens,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
E-Dancer,
Lindisfarne,
Buzzcocks,
the Bar-Kays,
the Soft Cell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eric Dolphy,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fall,
Fat Boys,
cv313,
Gang Green,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.