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 Chad and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 UT to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Arcadia,
Crime,
Michelle Simonal,
Roger Hodgson,
Underground Resistance,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thee Headcoats,
Wings,
The Music Machine,
Marmalade,
Angry Samoans,
Loose Ends,
Desert Stars,
The Kinks,
John Holt,
The Human League,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sam Rivers,
The Grass Roots,
Franke,
Absolute Body Control,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Moss Icon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fall,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Pretty Things,
The Move,
LL Cool J,
10cc,
Idris Muhammad,
Charles Mingus,
Carl Craig,
Wally Richardson,
Camouflage,
Alphaville,
H. Thieme,
Hashim,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Stooges,
Yusef Lateef,
Darondo,
The Star Department,
Y Pants,
Eli Mardock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fluxion,
Scientists,
Ultravox,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hardrive,
Kas Product,
The Count Five,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.