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 St Lucia and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lungfish to the funk 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Cameo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Lydon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fat Boys,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter and Kerry,
Public Enemy,
Tres Demented,
Banda Bassotti,
Albert Ayler,
World's Most,
Vladislav Delay,
Bang On A Can,
Kayak,
Hot Snakes,
Andrew Hill,
Zapp,
Warsaw,
Hardrive,
Prince Buster,
Soul II Soul,
the Normal,
Todd Rundgren,
Nils Olav,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barry Ungar,
Joe Smooth,
The Durutti Column,
The Dirtbombs,
The Associates,
Rekid,
Pussy Galore,
Talk Talk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Los Fastidios,
Sun Ra,
The Angels of Light,
Scott Walker,
Interpol,
Howard Jones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stereo Dub,
Throbbing Gristle,
Outsiders,
Ultravox,
Skriet,
Cecil Taylor,
Nik Kershaw,
The Zeros,
Freddie Wadling,
LL Cool J,
Average White Band,
Scion,
Nirvana,
Audionom,
48th St. Collective,
Magazine,
Symarip,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.