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 Gabon and from London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba 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 Silicon Teens to the grunge 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Hardrive,
Sparks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deakin,
10cc,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ornette Coleman,
Make Up,
The Dirtbombs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Pretty Things,
Howard Jones,
Crime,
Thompson Twins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crash Course in Science,
The Offenders,
The Cure,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Qualms,
The Gap Band,
The Fugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alphaville,
Spandau Ballet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lower 48,
48th St. Collective,
Sex Pistols,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Anakelly,
Mo-Dettes,
Eurythmics,
Swell Maps,
Trumans Water,
Frankie Knuckles,
Godley & Creme,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Invisible,
Ronnie Foster,
Unwound,
Neu!,
Gang Starr,
The Motions,
The Angels of Light,
Amon Düül II,
Jacob Miller,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lucky Dragons,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scan 7,
Warsaw,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bang On A Can,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.