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 Micronesia and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lakeside to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Accadde A,
Eurythmics,
New Age Steppers,
Dawn Penn,
Joe Finger,
Crispy Ambulance,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
OOIOO,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Electric Prunes,
Gang Gang Dance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lindisfarne,
The Beau Brummels,
Sparks,
MC5,
Banda Bassotti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Loose Ends,
Stereo Dub,
Pantaleimon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Angels of Light,
Hardrive,
Yazoo,
Mantronix,
Babytalk,
The Cowsills,
Hashim,
Jandek,
Vainqueur,
Harry Pussy,
Jerry's Kids,
Juan Atkins,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
a-ha,
cv313,
Henry Cow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roxy Music,
Tim Buckley,
Subhumans,
Janne Schatter,
The Remains,
Kenny Larkin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DJ Style,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Gladiators,
Parry Music,
The Happenings,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Technova,
Wolf Eyes,
Harpers Bizarre,
La Düsseldorf,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.