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 India and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Alice Coltrane to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Starr,
Vainqueur,
Pierre Henry,
Gichy Dan,
Lakeside,
The Real Kids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Unrelated Segments,
The Angels of Light,
Y Pants,
Whodini,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cybotron,
Banda Bassotti,
DJ Style,
Lightning Bolt,
Pet Shop Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Metal Thangz,
Barrington Levy,
Television,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Hood,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Finger,
T. Rex,
Marine Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dave Gahan,
The Victims,
Talk Talk,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Monolake,
the Soft Cell,
Thee Headcoats,
Alison Limerick,
Fatback Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Names,
Stiv Bators,
Hardrive,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Youth Brigade,
David McCallum,
Q and Not U,
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pop Group,
Black Sheep,
The American Breed,
Accadde A,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Pus,
Godley & Creme,
Terry Callier,
Visage,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.