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 Uruguay and from Delhi.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Zeros to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks 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?
The Raincoats,
David Bowie,
The Martian,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yellowson,
Talk Talk,
The Golliwogs,
Lakeside,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Public Enemy,
Dawn Penn,
John Foxx,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gabor Szabo,
Flash Fearless,
Youth Brigade,
Hot Snakes,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Black Dice,
Soft Machine,
Electric Prunes,
The Doors,
Boredoms,
Letta Mbulu,
Outsiders,
The Modern Lovers,
Minny Pops,
Lee Hazlewood,
Liliput,
Schoolly D,
Country Teasers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Dolphy,
Ronan,
JFA,
The Birthday Party,
Magma,
Skriet,
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Sneak,
The Flesh Eaters,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Sherman,
Pylon,
Faust,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The New Christs,
The Gories,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Animal Collective,
Public Image Ltd.,
Yusef Lateef,
New York Dolls,
Simply Red,
In Retrospect,
Saccharine Trust,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Moby Grape,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.