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 Burundi and from Accra.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 This Heat to the rap 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Connie Case,
The United States of America,
Chris Corsano,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Donald Byrd,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gang of Four,
Zero Boys,
Robert Görl,
New York Dolls,
The Modern Lovers,
The Monochrome Set,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roxette,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moby Grape,
Fatback Band,
Nirvana,
Shuggie Otis,
Talk Talk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moss Icon,
The Pretty Things,
Glenn Branca,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
A Certain Ratio,
Index,
Lightning Bolt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kas Product,
Section 25,
Grauzone,
Leonard Cohen,
The Black Dice,
Quando Quango,
Mary Jane Girls,
Excepter,
Niagra,
Cluster,
Wasted Youth,
the Slits,
Archie Shepp,
Pierre Henry,
The Toasters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Man Eating Sloth,
New Age Steppers,
Mars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Freddie Wadling,
Cameo,
the Association,
Black Moon,
Porter Ricks,
Robert Wyatt,
E-Dancer,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.