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 Tuvalu and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultravox to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Make Up,
The Index,
Marc Almond,
John Foxx,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang of Four,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Royal Trux,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Goldenarms,
Rites of Spring,
The Smoke,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hashim,
Kool Moe Dee,
New York Dolls,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Skatalites,
Animal Collective,
Bad Manners,
The Fugs,
Severed Heads,
Faraquet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Litter,
Jeff Mills,
Shuggie Otis,
Warsaw,
Derrick Morgan,
David McCallum,
Boredoms,
Joyce Sims,
The New Christs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stereo Dub,
The Leaves,
Johnny Clarke,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultra Naté,
Cymande,
Dawn Penn,
Robert Wyatt,
Sixth Finger,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Pop Group,
Basic Channel,
Cal Tjader,
Circle Jerks,
Donny Hathaway,
The Victims,
Moebius,
Cheater Slicks,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James White and The Blacks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wolf Eyes,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.