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 Burkina and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
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 organ 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Livin' Joy,
Intrusion,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mary Jane Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Harmonia,
Faraquet,
Barry Ungar,
Stereo Dub,
Parry Music,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Theoretical Girls,
Cymande,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Royal Trux,
The Neon Judgement,
Organ,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Graham Central Station,
Amon Düül,
Faust,
The Young Rascals,
Byron Stingily,
Bill Near,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Red Krayola,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marine Girls,
Bauhaus,
Rufus Thomas,
Magazine,
Eden Ahbez,
Ronnie Foster,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Zeros,
Arcadia,
Jeff Lynne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Youth Brigade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rosa Yemen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Spandau Ballet,
The Searchers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cheater Slicks,
Colin Newman,
Archie Shepp,
The Mojo Men,
Barbara Tucker,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barrington Levy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Animal Collective,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rekid,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Warsaw,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.