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 Comoros and from Bologna.
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 New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 D'Angelo to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Severed Heads,
DJ Sneak,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marc Almond,
Little Man,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ten City,
Davy DMX,
Technova,
Ken Boothe,
Ice-T,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gabor Szabo,
Ronnie Foster,
Charles Mingus,
Minor Threat,
A Certain Ratio,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roxy Music,
Lindisfarne,
Wings,
John Coltrane,
The Index,
ABC,
Circle Jerks,
Monolake,
Clear Light,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Harry Pussy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brass Construction,
The Doors,
The Barracudas,
Marine Girls,
Royal Trux,
Animal Collective,
The New Christs,
Mark Hollis,
The Slackers,
The Velvet Underground,
Sarah Menescal,
Lalann,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joyce Sims,
Harpers Bizarre,
Loose Ends,
Skaos,
The Vogues,
Althea and Donna,
Josef K,
The Motions,
The Red Krayola,
Avey Tare,
Man Eating Sloth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Womack,
The Techniques,
Jacob Miller,
Throbbing Gristle,
Porter Ricks,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.