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 Tanzania and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Warsaw to the disco 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Blake Baxter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mission of Burma,
Masters at Work,
Kerri Chandler,
Pierre Henry,
The Index,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hoover,
Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Depeche Mode,
The Slackers,
John Lydon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Subhumans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Moody Blues,
Barry Ungar,
The Moleskins,
Ponytail,
Rapeman,
Basic Channel,
Hot Snakes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Y Pants,
Suburban Knight,
Audionom,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crispian St. Peters,
Aloha Tigers,
June of 44,
Alphaville,
Icehouse,
Freddie Wadling,
Organ,
Peter & Gordon,
Matthew Bourne,
the Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
OOIOO,
Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Saccharine Trust,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Golliwogs,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Faust,
Mo-Dettes,
Make Up,
Black Bananas,
Anthony Braxton,
Eddi Front,
Average White Band,
Desert Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ronan,
Deepchord,
La Düsseldorf,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.