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 Rwanda and from Manila.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum 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 Blake Baxter to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tropical Tobacco,
Warren Ellis,
Can,
Stereo Dub,
Letta Mbulu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Talk Talk,
The Fuzztones,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nico,
Stetsasonic,
Harry Pussy,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Modern Lovers,
The Real Kids,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Urselle,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deadbeat,
Skaos,
U.S. Maple,
Yusef Lateef,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Siglo XX,
The Cowsills,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Idris Muhammad,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Juan Atkins,
Suicide,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dual Sessions,
Gichy Dan,
Bush Tetras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Desert Stars,
Shuggie Otis,
Sonic Youth,
Kurtis Blow,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Raincoats,
The Standells,
Cal Tjader,
Sixth Finger,
Tomorrow,
Fela Kuti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joe Finger,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Starr,
The Walker Brothers,
Chris Corsano,
Intrusion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.