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 Kosovo and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
The Busters,
Alison Limerick,
David Bowie,
Depeche Mode,
Soft Cell,
Don Cherry,
Pantaleimon,
Banda Bassotti,
Arab on Radar,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Parry Music,
Thee Headcoats,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moby Grape,
Patti Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Moleskins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bill Wells,
Electric Prunes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
ABC,
Black Moon,
Newcleus,
Cymande,
Neu!,
Fatback Band,
Schoolly D,
Loose Ends,
Nik Kershaw,
Althea and Donna,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fat Boys,
The Red Krayola,
Sam Rivers,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Christie,
Rotary Connection,
Reuben Wilson,
Gong,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aloha Tigers,
Whodini,
Josef K,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Panda Bear,
Alphaville,
Albert Ayler,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
T. Rex,
The United States of America,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Agent Orange,
Nick Fraelich,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.