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 San Marino and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Donald Fagen 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 Andrew Hill to the rock 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Barbara Tucker,
Newcleus,
The United States of America,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eli Mardock,
Dark Day,
Scrapy,
Parry Music,
Iggy Pop,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Blancmange,
Stiv Bators,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Toasters,
the Germs,
Avey Tare,
Niagra,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sixth Finger,
Joyce Sims,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Easy Going,
John Lydon,
Mr. Review,
Mandrill,
Amon Düül,
Deepchord,
Soulsonic Force,
The Music Machine,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stereo Dub,
Brass Construction,
Robert Wyatt,
Roger Hodgson,
Minny Pops,
Bill Near,
T.S.O.L.,
Symarip,
The Litter,
Amazonics,
Pylon,
The Smiths,
Robert Hood,
John Cale,
Aural Exciters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The American Breed,
Surgeon,
Cameo,
Yazoo,
The Neon Judgement,
The Doors,
Albert Ayler,
Sound Behaviour,
Morten Harket,
Swell Maps,
Joe Smooth,
La Düsseldorf,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.