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 Kosovo and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the guitar 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 Hot Snakes to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Pole,
Icehouse,
Gerry Rafferty,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Amazonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Jesper Dahlback,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Vogues,
Khruangbin,
Bluetip,
Severed Heads,
The Birthday Party,
Brass Construction,
The Wake,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pussy Galore,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Foxx,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dual Sessions,
Warsaw,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yellowson,
Saccharine Trust,
The Young Rascals,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jeru the Damaja,
Suburban Knight,
Moebius,
Sixth Finger,
Technova,
Tomorrow,
DJ Sneak,
The Mummies,
Bobby Sherman,
Max Romeo,
Mantronix,
Crispy Ambulance,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra,
The Angels of Light,
Ludus,
Carl Craig,
Iggy Pop,
LL Cool J,
Sound Behaviour,
Sonic Youth,
The Martian,
Harmonia,
Eve St. Jones,
Mo-Dettes,
Mr. Review,
Zero Boys,
The Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
Kerri Chandler,
June of 44,
David Bowie,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.