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 Cameroon and from Salvador.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pantaleimon to the rap 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Patti Smith,
Aural Exciters,
U.S. Maple,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
E-Dancer,
Funkadelic,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Bananas,
Tommy Roe,
Reuben Wilson,
Prince Buster,
8 Eyed Spy,
Shoche,
Black Sheep,
Grey Daturas,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Sonics,
Lou Reed,
Man Parrish,
John Foxx,
Liliput,
Magma,
John Coltrane,
The Standells,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Human League,
Vainqueur,
Pere Ubu,
Peter and Kerry,
Cluster,
Moss Icon,
Andrew Hill,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pole,
The Fall,
Altered Images,
Tubeway Army,
Anthony Braxton,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yusef Lateef,
Traffic Nightmare,
Freddie Wadling,
June of 44,
Public Enemy,
Los Fastidios,
Wasted Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
Flipper,
Royal Trux,
Tropical Tobacco,
Inner City,
Ponytail,
Second Layer,
Kenny Larkin,
Gang Gang Dance,
Archie Shepp,
Magazine,
Bush Tetras,
Moby Grape,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.