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 Vietnam and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Leonard Cohen to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
The Detroit Cobras,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Intrusion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Oblivians,
Charles Mingus,
Franke,
World's Most,
Harmonia,
The Black Dice,
The Names,
These Immortal Souls,
Second Layer,
Max Romeo,
Visage,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Swans,
Sparks,
Spandau Ballet,
Hasil Adkins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Slits,
Johnny Clarke,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flipper,
Slick Rick,
Quantec,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Flesh Eaters,
Darondo,
Ohio Players,
Desert Stars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Popol Vuh,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wings,
Aloha Tigers,
Danielle Patucci,
Fifty Foot Hose,
H. Thieme,
Jeff Mills,
The Buckinghams,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cramps,
Bill Wells,
Glenn Branca,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Blossom Toes,
Shoche,
Underground Resistance,
The Modern Lovers,
Bush Tetras,
Brothers Johnson,
Absolute Body Control,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cabaret Voltaire,
E-Dancer,
Aswad,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.