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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Accra.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Gladiators to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Spoonie Gee,
Lightning Bolt,
Rod Modell,
Gang Starr,
Tim Buckley,
Todd Rundgren,
Tres Demented,
Amazonics,
Roger Hodgson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kerrie Biddell,
The New Christs,
EPMD,
The Alarm Clocks,
Television,
Barry Ungar,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
In Retrospect,
Mandrill,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joyce Sims,
T. Rex,
The Real Kids,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Symarip,
Dawn Penn,
Excepter,
Visage,
Marshall Jefferson,
E-Dancer,
Isaac Hayes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Gun Club,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Pop Group,
Derrick Morgan,
The Toasters,
Gong,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grey Daturas,
Make Up,
Minutemen,
Technova,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crooked Eye,
Michelle Simonal,
CMW,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rakim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Sherman,
Average White Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Rotary Connection,
Public Enemy,
Altered Images,
Duran Duran,
Ponytail,
Echospace,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.