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 Ecuador and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Litter to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Funky Four + One,
Deadbeat,
Scott Walker,
The Moody Blues,
Godley & Creme,
Section 25,
Basic Channel,
Sex Pistols,
Crispy Ambulance,
Idris Muhammad,
Agent Orange,
Nils Olav,
Erasure,
Brick,
Amazonics,
Alice Coltrane,
Organ,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crooked Eye,
Roxy Music,
Heaven 17,
The Birthday Party,
The Beau Brummels,
Ludus,
MC5,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jacob Miller,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Germs,
Arcadia,
Flash Fearless,
The Durutti Column,
The Motions,
Niagra,
Skriet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Slits,
Masters at Work,
The Fuzztones,
Ken Boothe,
Chris & Cosey,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Stereo Dub,
Franke,
Robert Hood,
Eric Copeland,
Radio Birdman,
Jandek,
10cc,
Hasil Adkins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Unrelated Segments,
Zapp,
Tom Boy,
Alison Limerick,
The Knickerbockers,
Glenn Branca,
Symarip,
Suicide,
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.