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 Taiwan and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin 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 T.S.O.L. to the electroclash 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Section 25,
The Toasters,
The Gories,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Pretty Things,
Ken Boothe,
Joensuu 1685,
H. Thieme,
Minutemen,
The Misunderstood,
Chris & Cosey,
Drive Like Jehu,
Massinfluence,
Supertramp,
Aswad,
Television Personalities,
Mr. Review,
Wally Richardson,
New Age Steppers,
Eurythmics,
The Gun Club,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fortunes,
The Neon Judgement,
New York Dolls,
Wings,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Angels of Light,
Goldenarms,
Brass Construction,
Gang of Four,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terry Callier,
Rakim,
The Remains,
Colin Newman,
Dual Sessions,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Trojans,
Rod Modell,
Ultravox,
Hoover,
David McCallum,
Lucky Dragons,
Parry Music,
Stiv Bators,
Cecil Taylor,
a-ha,
Andrew Hill,
the Normal,
Gichy Dan,
John Coltrane,
Organ,
Heaven 17,
Arab on Radar,
Lee Hazlewood,
10cc,
Grandmaster Flash,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.