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 Botswana and from New York.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Porter Ricks 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Mark Hollis,
Subhumans,
Bluetip,
Excepter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The New Christs,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang of Four,
Idris Muhammad,
The Residents,
Guru Guru,
Khruangbin,
Boredoms,
Warsaw,
Procol Harum,
Stockholm Monsters,
Glenn Branca,
The Victims,
Swell Maps,
New Order,
Second Layer,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jawbox,
Panda Bear,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Sheep,
China Crisis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Techniques,
Arcadia,
The Vogues,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Motorama,
The Cure,
Sällskapet,
The Zeros,
The Gories,
Josef K,
Colin Newman,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lou Christie,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Dirtbombs,
the Sonics,
Roxette,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Modern Lovers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alton Ellis,
Intrusion,
Black Flag,
Marc Almond,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.