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 Cyprus and from Philadelphia.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 The Wake to the crunk 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Crooked Eye,
Jeff Mills,
Can,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yellowson,
Anakelly,
Motorama,
Desert Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
Colin Newman,
Bronski Beat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultimate Spinach,
Whodini,
Delta 5,
The Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Henry Cow,
Kayak,
The Fire Engines,
Roxy Music,
Sun City Girls,
Severed Heads,
Boredoms,
Tim Buckley,
Agent Orange,
These Immortal Souls,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fall,
Lou Christie,
Joy Division,
The Monks,
Duran Duran,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Goldenarms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Interpol,
B.T. Express,
Albert Ayler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Todd Rundgren,
Wire,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soul II Soul,
Subhumans,
The Toasters,
The Last Poets,
Main Source,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Germs,
John Lydon,
Babytalk,
Arab on Radar,
Swell Maps,
Depeche Mode,
Boogie Down Productions,
Robert Görl,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Connie Case,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.