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 Sri Lanka and from Edmonton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Public Enemy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Excepter,
Anakelly,
Man Eating Sloth,
Electric Prunes,
U.S. Maple,
New York Dolls,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roxy Music,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
48th St. Collective,
Sight & Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soft Cell,
Newcleus,
L. Decosne,
X-Ray Spex,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Arcadia,
Charles Mingus,
Hasil Adkins,
World's Most,
The Techniques,
Aural Exciters,
Quadrant,
Ultravox,
New Age Steppers,
Essential Logic,
Siglo XX,
Gong,
Fear,
Neu!,
The Moody Blues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Slave,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barry Ungar,
Althea and Donna,
Rekid,
Scott Walker,
Amon Düül,
Prince Buster,
Lungfish,
Black Moon,
Fatback Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Man Parrish,
Albert Ayler,
David Bowie,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The American Breed,
Delon & Dalcan,
Vainqueur,
The Remains,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.