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 Argentina and from Columbus.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ponytail to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool Moe Dee,
New Order,
Lou Reed,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amon Düül,
Deepchord,
The Move,
The Velvet Underground,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ten City,
the Human League,
Mantronix,
Ohio Players,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Martian,
Soft Machine,
Scratch Acid,
The Dead C,
Todd Rundgren,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Brick,
Minutemen,
Crooked Eye,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sällskapet,
Little Man,
Lungfish,
Arcadia,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Kinks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kerri Chandler,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Au Pairs,
Letta Mbulu,
Boredoms,
Vladislav Delay,
Todd Terry,
The Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Agent Orange,
Robert Hood,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radiohead,
Chris Corsano,
Janne Schatter,
Graham Central Station,
Johnny Clarke,
Glenn Branca,
The Moody Blues,
Japan,
Index,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eve St. Jones,
The Divine Comedy,
Jacob Miller,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.