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 Israel and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the rock 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Hardrive,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Visage,
Robert Görl,
Todd Rundgren,
Arcadia,
The Techniques,
Urselle,
kango's stein massive,
Jacob Miller,
The Monks,
Circle Jerks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wings,
The Victims,
Anthony Braxton,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Kinks,
Guru Guru,
Aaron Thompson,
Yazoo,
Andrew Hill,
Average White Band,
the Sonics,
Kayak,
Maleditus Sound,
The Mummies,
Little Man,
Soft Cell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cecil Taylor,
Colin Newman,
Barry Ungar,
Barbara Tucker,
Max Romeo,
Peter and Kerry,
Bauhaus,
The Litter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Byrd,
Fat Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joensuu 1685,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cure,
The Slackers,
Lungfish,
New York Dolls,
The Vogues,
Panda Bear,
Buzzcocks,
Darondo,
Goldenarms,
Electric Prunes,
A Certain Ratio,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.