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 Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Smog to the rock 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
R.M.O.,
OOIOO,
Whodini,
Judy Mowatt,
The Searchers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Amon Düül II,
Barry Ungar,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Terry Callier,
Fatback Band,
Tom Boy,
Talk Talk,
The Motions,
Connie Case,
Inner City,
Blossom Toes,
Franke,
The Mummies,
Eve St. Jones,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arthur Verocai,
Boz Scaggs,
Barbara Tucker,
Babytalk,
Sparks,
Smog,
Joensuu 1685,
a-ha,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sex Pistols,
Ultravox,
KRS-One,
The Black Dice,
One Last Wish,
In Retrospect,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Television Personalities,
Reuben Wilson,
Brand Nubian,
The Misunderstood,
Rotary Connection,
Lalann,
New Order,
the Association,
Susan Cadogan,
Nico,
The Modern Lovers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Radio Birdman,
Toni Rubio,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Young Marble Giants,
Reagan Youth,
John Cale,
Visage,
Don Cherry,
Cameo,
Grey Daturas,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.