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 Kazakhstan and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 The Gun Club to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
The Blues Magoos,
Suicide,
The Count Five,
Danielle Patucci,
Sixth Finger,
Icehouse,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sight & Sound,
OOIOO,
Yazoo,
The Litter,
Barrington Levy,
Trumans Water,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rapeman,
Agent Orange,
Can,
EPMD,
the Human League,
Hardrive,
Alphaville,
Lucky Dragons,
Andrew Hill,
Man Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Trojans,
Nils Olav,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Radio Birdman,
Country Teasers,
The Gap Band,
Swell Maps,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Robert Wyatt,
Sugar Minott,
The Happenings,
Clear Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Pop Group,
Cluster,
Funky Four + One,
Simply Red,
Ludus,
Little Man,
Second Layer,
Main Source,
DJ Style,
The Techniques,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed,
Steve Hackett,
Arcadia,
Monolake,
Bronski Beat,
cv313,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Searchers,
The Black Dice,
Quando Quango,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.