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 Grenada 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crispy Ambulance to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Cluster,
Derrick Morgan,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gun Club,
The Searchers,
Porter Ricks,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angry Samoans,
Panda Bear,
Wings,
Blake Baxter,
DJ Style,
Joe Smooth,
Shuggie Otis,
Ronnie Foster,
Fatback Band,
Mandrill,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Donald Byrd,
Darondo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Quando Quango,
Hoover,
Hasil Adkins,
Rekid,
Sex Pistols,
D'Angelo,
Joyce Sims,
June Days,
Soft Cell,
Jawbox,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Delta 5,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DJ Sneak,
John Holt,
Tommy Roe,
The Angels of Light,
Colin Newman,
Au Pairs,
The Invisible,
Schoolly D,
Deadbeat,
The Associates,
Jerry's Kids,
the Fania All-Stars,
Steve Hackett,
Connie Case,
Fat Boys,
Alice Coltrane,
Theoretical Girls,
Mad Mike,
These Immortal Souls,
Nick Fraelich,
Aloha Tigers,
Cal Tjader,
CMW,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.