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 Djibouti and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jacques Brel to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Sex Pistols,
Tres Demented,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Blake Baxter,
Echospace,
The Barracudas,
Pagans,
Dead Boys,
Panda Bear,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Absolute Body Control,
Surgeon,
The Motions,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
MC5,
Basic Channel,
Shuggie Otis,
Negative Approach,
The Gladiators,
Swans,
The Invisible,
Circle Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker,
Pharoah Sanders,
Desert Stars,
Fugazi,
Black Flag,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Ossler,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Blues Magoos,
Slick Rick,
Kas Product,
Inner City,
Spoonie Gee,
T.S.O.L.,
Patti Smith,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Moleskins,
Cymande,
Interpol,
The Music Machine,
X-102,
Rosa Yemen,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Can,
T. Rex,
Robert Hood,
Robert Görl,
Funky Four + One,
Siglo XX,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang On A Can,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.