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 Paraguay and from Manchester.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Donald Fagen 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Ultravox,
The Dirtbombs,
Davy DMX,
Organ,
The Remains,
Subhumans,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Music Machine,
Blake Baxter,
David Bowie,
Sällskapet,
Crooked Eye,
Boredoms,
The Smiths,
The Grass Roots,
Yellowson,
Hot Snakes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Association,
Henry Cow,
Al Stewart,
Gang of Four,
Pere Ubu,
Robert Wyatt,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Byron Stingily,
Skaos,
Arcadia,
X-Ray Spex,
Youth Brigade,
Black Flag,
The Angels of Light,
Massinfluence,
Warsaw,
The Golliwogs,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Lydon,
Young Marble Giants,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hasil Adkins,
Rapeman,
Sister Nancy,
Sparks,
Pantaleimon,
Roy Ayers,
The Mummies,
Fat Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Popol Vuh,
E-Dancer,
Angry Samoans,
The Cure,
Gang Green,
Absolute Body Control,
EPMD,
Y Pants,
Sex Pistols,
John Coltrane,
The Dead C,
K-Klass,
Soft Machine,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.