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 Russia and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Hardrive to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Monks,
Can,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
ABC,
Avey Tare,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Foxx,
Sparks,
Urselle,
Make Up,
the Sonics,
The Cure,
The Standells,
Easy Going,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang Green,
Silicon Teens,
The Monochrome Set,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Y Pants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Livin' Joy,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Smog,
Lucky Dragons,
Symarip,
Visage,
Icehouse,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roxy Music,
Scratch Acid,
Ken Boothe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Organ,
Reuben Wilson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ice-T,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Robert Hood,
Jacob Miller,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Prince Buster,
Mission of Burma,
Technova,
Brick,
Interpol,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.