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 Albania and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Smoke to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Kerrie Biddell,
Yellowson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Skatalites,
Gong,
Ossler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lindisfarne,
Kas Product,
Buzzcocks,
The Invisible,
Jandek,
The Golliwogs,
Minor Threat,
The Flesh Eaters,
Clear Light,
Make Up,
Severed Heads,
Slave,
Vainqueur,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Pretty Things,
The Misunderstood,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Organ,
The Standells,
Ultravox,
Au Pairs,
Fatback Band,
The Smoke,
Arab on Radar,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Brick,
Robert Hood,
Matthew Halsall,
Kerri Chandler,
Nils Olav,
Alton Ellis,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mummies,
Sun Ra,
ABBA,
the Association,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Silicon Teens,
The Associates,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Malaria!,
Wasted Youth,
Junior Murvin,
Black Pus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tim Buckley,
Spandau Ballet,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.