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 China and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Alarm Clocks to the grime 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Mandrill,
UT,
The Stooges,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roxette,
Goldenarms,
Boogie Down Productions,
Khruangbin,
Circle Jerks,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Slits,
Panda Bear,
Liliput,
Intrusion,
Joy Division,
Q and Not U,
La Düsseldorf,
Cameo,
Quando Quango,
Bauhaus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tres Demented,
Porter Ricks,
The Human League,
Idris Muhammad,
The Moody Blues,
John Holt,
Ronan,
Buzzcocks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minor Threat,
World's Most,
Henry Cow,
Marine Girls,
Howard Jones,
The Doors,
Eve St. Jones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Suicide,
JFA,
Groovy Waters,
Severed Heads,
Duran Duran,
Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
AZ,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
cv313,
Scan 7,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fortunes,
Alton Ellis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Human League,
Laurel Aitken,
The Seeds,
Procol Harum,
Mo-Dettes,
Bush Tetras,
F. McDonald,
Lee Hazlewood,
Supertramp,
Isaac Hayes,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.