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 Jordan 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe 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 Bobby Byrd to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kaleidoscope,
Cal Tjader,
Mr. Review,
Tomorrow,
Newcleus,
Sound Behaviour,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Panda Bear,
Maurizio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grauzone,
Audionom,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Infiniti,
Yellowson,
Pussy Galore,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cramps,
Joe Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
Colin Newman,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Velvet Underground,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Quadrant,
John Coltrane,
Boredoms,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sonny Sharrock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harry Pussy,
The Blues Magoos,
JFA,
Au Pairs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scott Walker,
Minutemen,
Yazoo,
This Heat,
Pet Shop Boys,
The American Breed,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eric Copeland,
Roxette,
Aural Exciters,
Sixth Finger,
Ohio Players,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harmonia,
Kenny Larkin,
Yaz,
Wally Richardson,
Camberwell Now,
Parry Music,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.