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 Somalia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes 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 Brothers Johnson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
The Cure,
The Dave Clark Five,
Grauzone,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
T.S.O.L.,
The Residents,
The Dead C,
The Seeds,
Skarface,
MC5,
Simply Red,
Cal Tjader,
Bauhaus,
X-Ray Spex,
Suburban Knight,
Bootsy Collins,
Graham Central Station,
Section 25,
Hot Snakes,
Dead Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Donny Hathaway,
La Düsseldorf,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scion,
Henry Cow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marvin Gaye,
The Mummies,
Robert Wyatt,
Roger Hodgson,
Oneida,
Interpol,
Deadbeat,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Red Krayola,
Warsaw,
Joyce Sims,
Skriet,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
U.S. Maple,
Lindisfarne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Buckinghams,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ossler,
Freddie Wadling,
Davy DMX,
Boogie Down Productions,
Carl Craig,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nils Olav,
The Slits,
The Gun Club,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lyres,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric Dolphy,
Piero Umiliani,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.