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 Tunisia and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cybotron,
The Associates,
The Standells,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stereo Dub,
Tommy Roe,
Thompson Twins,
Howard Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Darondo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Human League,
Nick Fraelich,
World's Most,
Porter Ricks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wire,
Moss Icon,
The Grass Roots,
Simply Red,
Bootsy Collins,
Mr. Review,
Barbara Tucker,
Main Source,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Görl,
Soulsonic Force,
Al Stewart,
Eli Mardock,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jeru the Damaja,
Young Marble Giants,
Gang Starr,
The Toasters,
Ohio Players,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joensuu 1685,
Godley & Creme,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
a-ha,
The Doors,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Thee Headcoats,
the Germs,
Rotary Connection,
Bob Dylan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Y Pants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bill Wells,
The New Christs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fad Gadget,
Rufus Thomas,
The J.B.'s,
Blossom Toes,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.