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 Maldives and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Harry Pussy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gabor Szabo,
Fela Kuti,
The Count Five,
Monolake,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minor Threat,
Sugar Minott,
Absolute Body Control,
Sight & Sound,
Nils Olav,
The Black Dice,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Masters at Work,
Neu!,
Crime,
Gerry Rafferty,
A Certain Ratio,
The Gun Club,
Quando Quango,
Model 500,
Carl Craig,
Judy Mowatt,
The Selecter,
The Mummies,
Kool Moe Dee,
Shoche,
Fluxion,
The Barracudas,
Liliput,
Scott Walker,
Delta 5,
Interpol,
Maleditus Sound,
Skriet,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Red Krayola,
Sonic Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Mission of Burma,
Buzzcocks,
The Associates,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Moody Blues,
Mandrill,
Reuben Wilson,
Aaron Thompson,
Franke,
Sandy B,
the Association,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roger Hodgson,
Bluetip,
Hardrive,
Lalann,
Nik Kershaw,
The New Christs,
Deakin,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.