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 Iceland and from Tehran.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fania All-Stars to the electroclash 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flamin' Groovies,
Byron Stingily,
10cc,
Man Parrish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Agent Orange,
Quadrant,
These Immortal Souls,
ABBA,
Cybotron,
Joe Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
Eden Ahbez,
Todd Rundgren,
Fugazi,
Marshall Jefferson,
One Last Wish,
The Mojo Men,
Jacques Brel,
Desert Stars,
Pantaleimon,
Aloha Tigers,
Don Cherry,
Aural Exciters,
Donald Byrd,
Circle Jerks,
Kas Product,
Au Pairs,
Can,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sällskapet,
Cecil Taylor,
The New Christs,
Clear Light,
Public Enemy,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Swans,
Fad Gadget,
John Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
a-ha,
Rakim,
Visage,
X-102,
The Dead C,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Excepter,
Los Fastidios,
Barry Ungar,
Sandy B,
Jerry Gold Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
Rod Modell,
Sight & Sound,
Babytalk,
Zapp,
Sound Behaviour,
The Associates,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.