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 Sri Lanka and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rap 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Groovy Waters,
Soul II Soul,
FM Einheit,
Cameo,
Susan Cadogan,
Byron Stingily,
Harry Pussy,
Donny Hathaway,
The J.B.'s,
Sonny Sharrock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Prunes,
Newcleus,
Liliput,
Vladislav Delay,
Sam Rivers,
Minutemen,
the Sonics,
Neil Young,
The Red Krayola,
the Soft Cell,
Tubeway Army,
Bill Wells,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nick Fraelich,
Public Enemy,
Angry Samoans,
The Fire Engines,
David McCallum,
Nik Kershaw,
Monks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mo-Dettes,
Inner City,
Suicide,
The Birthday Party,
Blancmange,
Gichy Dan,
Black Bananas,
Mars,
Boredoms,
Zero Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gladiators,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Das Ding,
Josef K,
Aswad,
Babytalk,
David Axelrod,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Subhumans,
The Durutti Column,
LL Cool J,
Robert Wyatt,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joensuu 1685,
Donald Byrd,
Lyres,
Crispian St. Peters,
Infiniti,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.