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 Bangladesh and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Outsiders to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
kango's stein massive,
Glambeats Corp.,
DJ Style,
Gang Starr,
Eric Dolphy,
Jacob Miller,
Whodini,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nick Fraelich,
the Germs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Real Kids,
Marvin Gaye,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jeru the Damaja,
Babytalk,
Skarface,
Chrome,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Metal Thangz,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Wyatt,
Porter Ricks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wasted Youth,
Radiohead,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Adolescents,
Smog,
Faraquet,
Altered Images,
Roxy Music,
Guru Guru,
Big Daddy Kane,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Colin Newman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Archie Shepp,
The Vogues,
Josef K,
Hasil Adkins,
CMW,
The Index,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Evens,
The Standells,
Livin' Joy,
Siglo XX,
Scrapy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chris Corsano,
Eddi Front,
Man Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kayak,
Qualms,
Neu!,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.