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 Malawi and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Junior Murvin to the funk 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Agitation Free,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Neon Judgement,
Sällskapet,
Throbbing Gristle,
La Düsseldorf,
Quando Quango,
the Germs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tubeway Army,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
PIL,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bob Dylan,
The Red Krayola,
Rotary Connection,
Nils Olav,
Soul II Soul,
Lucky Dragons,
Wings,
Underground Resistance,
Girls At Our Best!,
Chrome,
James White and The Blacks,
The Move,
Nico,
The Wake,
A Certain Ratio,
David McCallum,
Max Romeo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ituana,
Y Pants,
The Invisible,
Public Enemy,
Roger Hodgson,
Slave,
The Monochrome Set,
Aaron Thompson,
Kayak,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fortunes,
Ken Boothe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Model 500,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dead Boys,
Soft Cell,
Bill Near,
Monolake,
Flipper,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Moleskins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Siglo XX,
Qualms,
The Cowsills,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.