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 Albania and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nils Olav to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pole,
Clear Light,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Divine Comedy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Adolescents,
Joe Finger,
Chrome,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rotary Connection,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alison Limerick,
Nik Kershaw,
Bush Tetras,
Mo-Dettes,
Main Source,
Sonny Sharrock,
T.S.O.L.,
The Cramps,
Symarip,
Angry Samoans,
La Düsseldorf,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultravox,
Joensuu 1685,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Music Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
a-ha,
Au Pairs,
Eve St. Jones,
Brass Construction,
The Gun Club,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bronski Beat,
This Heat,
Pagans,
Scion,
kango's stein massive,
Donny Hathaway,
Susan Cadogan,
Henry Cow,
Radiohead,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Raincoats,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Evens,
Pylon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Martian,
Andrew Hill,
Theoretical Girls,
MDC,
June Days,
Pharoah Sanders,
Robert Wyatt,
Rekid,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.