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 Gabon and from Hong Kong.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
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 guitar 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 Underground Resistance to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Robert Görl,
R.M.O.,
Camouflage,
Hashim,
The Standells,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Vogues,
Wings,
The Fortunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lou Christie,
Sam Rivers,
Liliput,
Ten City,
Eve St. Jones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Technova,
OOIOO,
The Five Americans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cameo,
Vainqueur,
Pantytec,
The Tremeloes,
Scratch Acid,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Todd Terry,
Outsiders,
Au Pairs,
The Happenings,
Harry Pussy,
Lyres,
The Knickerbockers,
Carl Craig,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nik Kershaw,
La Düsseldorf,
Josef K,
Ronan,
Gang of Four,
Todd Rundgren,
Das Ding,
Ralphi Rosario,
10cc,
Black Pus,
the Sonics,
The Black Dice,
The American Breed,
Pulsallama,
Yazoo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Janne Schatter,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Flag,
Skaos,
Matthew Bourne,
The Buckinghams,
The Techniques,
Index,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.