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 Sri Lanka and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Deepchord,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lalann,
The Smiths,
The Moody Blues,
The Monks,
Rapeman,
The Leaves,
Tim Buckley,
Black Pus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Adolescents,
Mark Hollis,
Joensuu 1685,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Boz Scaggs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Severed Heads,
The Busters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Shuggie Otis,
Buzzcocks,
The Walker Brothers,
The Fire Engines,
Minny Pops,
Unrelated Segments,
Soft Machine,
Kas Product,
Grauzone,
Faust,
The Gladiators,
Youth Brigade,
Nick Fraelich,
Tubeway Army,
David McCallum,
Donald Byrd,
Moby Grape,
Icehouse,
Andrew Hill,
The Beau Brummels,
Organ,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gong,
Lakeside,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sun City Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Minnie Riperton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dirtbombs,
K-Klass,
Arcadia,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fuzztones,
John Holt,
The J.B.'s,
Pussy Galore,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.