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 Barbados and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the güiro 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 Connie Case to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
X-101,
Newcleus,
Pussy Galore,
The Skatalites,
Amon Düül II,
The Neon Judgement,
Procol Harum,
Little Man,
Flamin' Groovies,
Easy Going,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joy Division,
Scion,
Marmalade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fat Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ten City,
Ice-T,
Sandy B,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Lydon,
Morten Harket,
The American Breed,
Judy Mowatt,
Max Romeo,
Ponytail,
Saccharine Trust,
Vladislav Delay,
Schoolly D,
Oblivians,
Jawbox,
Royal Trux,
Tomorrow,
Hoover,
Niagra,
Motorama,
David Axelrod,
Idris Muhammad,
Alphaville,
Groovy Waters,
Television,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Curtis Mayfield,
Amon Düül,
Graham Central Station,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
OOIOO,
Zapp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
June Days,
Cecil Taylor,
Nik Kershaw,
The Victims,
Ituana,
The Fuzztones,
Pantaleimon,
Nico,
Barrington Levy,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.