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 Uzbekistan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
David Axelrod,
Maurizio,
New Order,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
E-Dancer,
Michelle Simonal,
Donny Hathaway,
Graham Central Station,
Sight & Sound,
Jandek,
Kaleidoscope,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deakin,
The Slackers,
Wire,
The Cowsills,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Soft Cell,
cv313,
Brand Nubian,
Mission of Burma,
Nico,
Ralphi Rosario,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moby Grape,
Rekid,
The Music Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Banda Bassotti,
Scrapy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronnie Foster,
New Age Steppers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nas,
the Swans,
the Normal,
Blossom Toes,
Section 25,
Judy Mowatt,
Underground Resistance,
Trumans Water,
FM Einheit,
Animal Collective,
Dawn Penn,
Eric Copeland,
Porter Ricks,
Warren Ellis,
K-Klass,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ohio Players,
Johnny Osbourne,
MC5,
Skriet,
JFA,
The Shadows of Knight,
Donald Byrd,
Pylon,
Thompson Twins,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.