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 Congo and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Flash Fearless to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Mad Mike,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jeff Lynne,
Kayak,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DNA,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sam Rivers,
Marvin Gaye,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerrie Biddell,
Desert Stars,
The Real Kids,
48th St. Collective,
Essential Logic,
Gerry Rafferty,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dirtbombs,
Japan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Man Parrish,
Gong,
Chris & Cosey,
Pere Ubu,
FM Einheit,
Dennis Brown,
Dawn Penn,
The Golliwogs,
Crooked Eye,
Sound Behaviour,
June of 44,
The J.B.'s,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Slits,
James White and The Blacks,
Deakin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Leonard Cohen,
Matthew Halsall,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Graham Central Station,
Cal Tjader,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Kinks,
Henry Cow,
Freddie Wadling,
Marc Almond,
PIL,
Erykah Badu,
Negative Approach,
Aswad,
The Fall,
Lyres,
Sandy B,
Masters at Work,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.