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 Suriname and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Arthur Verocai to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Newcleus,
The New Christs,
T.S.O.L.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Kinks,
Morten Harket,
Cybotron,
Lalann,
K-Klass,
Pussy Galore,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ornette Coleman,
AZ,
Eurythmics,
Idris Muhammad,
X-102,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rotary Connection,
Nick Fraelich,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Los Fastidios,
X-Ray Spex,
Funkadelic,
Alphaville,
Roger Hodgson,
Reuben Wilson,
MDC,
June Days,
Kayak,
Desert Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Outsiders,
Ludus,
Eli Mardock,
The Fortunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kenny Larkin,
Swans,
48th St. Collective,
Bob Dylan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Excepter,
Magma,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Vogues,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric Copeland,
The American Breed,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kerri Chandler,
Ronnie Foster,
Fugazi,
Eve St. Jones,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skarface,
Hashim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amazonics,
Metal Thangz,
Rapeman,
The Stooges,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.