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 Thailand and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Television Personalities to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Black Moon,
Japan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Freddie Wadling,
Tomorrow,
Lalo Schifrin,
Faust,
Soul II Soul,
Boz Scaggs,
Ludus,
Brass Construction,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aaron Thompson,
Rekid,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Christie,
The Beau Brummels,
Jesper Dahlback,
Masters at Work,
The Five Americans,
FM Einheit,
The Buckinghams,
Eurythmics,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Foxx,
D'Angelo,
Byron Stingily,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minny Pops,
Wings,
Stetsasonic,
Bizarre Inc.,
Blancmange,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Reed,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Sound,
Soft Cell,
Siglo XX,
Bauhaus,
Man Eating Sloth,
Funkadelic,
Sex Pistols,
Sam Rivers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scrapy,
Absolute Body Control,
Mad Mike,
Mantronix,
Marine Girls,
Gang of Four,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gong,
The Techniques,
John Cale,
The Real Kids,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.