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 Armenia and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Nile Rodgers 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 The Misunderstood to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Residents,
Flamin' Groovies,
Amazonics,
Amon Düül,
Rosa Yemen,
Angry Samoans,
Moby Grape,
The Cure,
Aloha Tigers,
Mission of Burma,
The Divine Comedy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cal Tjader,
Avey Tare,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dead Boys,
The Evens,
Glambeats Corp.,
DJ Sneak,
Siglo XX,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jacques Brel,
Crooked Eye,
Brick,
Eli Mardock,
Das Ding,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tomorrow,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Tremeloes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nirvana,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kurtis Blow,
Soul II Soul,
Khruangbin,
Fat Boys,
Slave,
PIL,
Sex Pistols,
Scion,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Underground Resistance,
The Birthday Party,
Sight & Sound,
Eurythmics,
Lower 48,
Don Cherry,
U.S. Maple,
Pylon,
Erasure,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott Heron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.