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 New Zealand and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Slick Rick to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
DJ Style,
Eric Dolphy,
Flipper,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Technova,
Jeff Lynne,
Roxette,
Sexual Harrassment,
Guru Guru,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Associates,
Theoretical Girls,
Deakin,
Franke,
Lower 48,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lightning Bolt,
Crime,
Oblivians,
Amon Düül,
Don Cherry,
CMW,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warsaw,
The Golliwogs,
The Five Americans,
The Fire Engines,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ronnie Foster,
James White and The Blacks,
PIL,
Junior Murvin,
Rakim,
One Last Wish,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Sheep,
Patti Smith,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gong,
Surgeon,
the Bar-Kays,
Joyce Sims,
Nick Fraelich,
Drexciya,
John Cale,
Gabor Szabo,
Porter Ricks,
The Fuzztones,
Althea and Donna,
The Buckinghams,
Wally Richardson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Main Source,
Grauzone,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABBA,
The Searchers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
June Days,
Oneida,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.