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 Latvia and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Angels of Light to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
a-ha,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-Ray Spex,
Dennis Brown,
Barrington Levy,
Sixth Finger,
Pere Ubu,
Boz Scaggs,
Bauhaus,
Carl Craig,
Junior Murvin,
Crooked Eye,
The Human League,
Judy Mowatt,
Todd Rundgren,
Con Funk Shun,
Eddi Front,
Ten City,
The Black Dice,
Hot Snakes,
Surgeon,
The Music Machine,
Terrestrial Tones,
Electric Prunes,
JFA,
Drexciya,
Soft Cell,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lakeside,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Buckinghams,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Pus,
Aloha Tigers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Slick Rick,
Television Personalities,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Derrick May,
Fluxion,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Babytalk,
Faust,
Wasted Youth,
ABBA,
Amon Düül,
Joy Division,
These Immortal Souls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eden Ahbez,
The Real Kids,
Jandek,
the Swans,
Shuggie Otis,
Pussy Galore,
Freddie Wadling,
Los Fastidios,
Chris & Cosey,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.