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 Papua New Guinea and from Mumbai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Johnny Osbourne to the jazz 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Metal Thangz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Royal Trux,
Marc Almond,
Glambeats Corp.,
Thee Headcoats,
The United States of America,
The Raincoats,
Jeff Lynne,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blossom Toes,
Fat Boys,
Mandrill,
Make Up,
Brothers Johnson,
Kenny Larkin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Easy Going,
Ronan,
Amazonics,
Bad Manners,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cluster,
Sam Rivers,
Echospace,
ABBA,
The Monks,
Goldenarms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Symarip,
Joensuu 1685,
Underground Resistance,
Roxy Music,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joe Smooth,
Mars,
Amon Düül,
Gang Green,
The Trojans,
Don Cherry,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Searchers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jawbox,
the Bar-Kays,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fluxion,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Robert Görl,
Silicon Teens,
Skaos,
Lucky Dragons,
Livin' Joy,
the Normal,
Reagan Youth,
Nick Fraelich,
Pulsallama,
Henry Cow,
Byron Stingily,
Aloha Tigers,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.