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 Micronesia and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet 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 The Young Rascals to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Royal Trux,
Juan Atkins,
The Monks,
Mad Mike,
Dennis Brown,
The Busters,
Jacob Miller,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Skatalites,
Mission of Burma,
Arcadia,
New York Dolls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cowsills,
Suicide,
Mr. Review,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Visage,
Joe Smooth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rod Modell,
Easy Going,
The Grass Roots,
Minny Pops,
Warsaw,
Fugazi,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Funky Four + One,
Colin Newman,
World's Most,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
The Slits,
Cecil Taylor,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Quando Quango,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Henry Cow,
Judy Mowatt,
Spoonie Gee,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cramps,
Ronan,
The J.B.'s,
Outsiders,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Sonics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Todd Terry,
Y Pants,
Radiopuhelimet,
Moss Icon,
Lucky Dragons,
Bad Manners,
Adolescents,
Bobby Sherman,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.