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 Seychelles 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe 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 The Moleskins to the funk 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Pantaleimon,
John Cale,
The Names,
Stetsasonic,
Black Bananas,
Technova,
Matthew Halsall,
The Red Krayola,
Bush Tetras,
Liliput,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Mojo Men,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sonic Youth,
X-101,
Dennis Brown,
Blake Baxter,
B.T. Express,
Robert Wyatt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Adolescents,
Ituana,
Simply Red,
Peter and Kerry,
Girls At Our Best!,
Underground Resistance,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joe Smooth,
Faraquet,
Newcleus,
Franke,
L. Decosne,
Neil Young,
Ten City,
T. Rex,
Sarah Menescal,
ABBA,
Amon Düül,
Y Pants,
The Velvet Underground,
The Blackbyrds,
Harpers Bizarre,
Derrick May,
Janne Schatter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Agent Orange,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Q and Not U,
Pere Ubu,
Wings,
Fat Boys,
Motorama,
JFA,
The Victims,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.