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 Sierra Leone and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Sarah Menescal to the grime 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
a-ha,
Eve St. Jones,
Robert Görl,
The Neon Judgement,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül,
Jacques Brel,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Livin' Joy,
John Cale,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Moby Grape,
Yazoo,
Roxy Music,
The Gories,
Lyres,
Ice-T,
Marmalade,
Erasure,
Alison Limerick,
Deadbeat,
Minny Pops,
Bush Tetras,
Alphaville,
Rakim,
KRS-One,
Ituana,
The Offenders,
The Buckinghams,
Qualms,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fire Engines,
Wire,
Pussy Galore,
Jeru the Damaja,
Henry Cow,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fugs,
Porter Ricks,
Harry Pussy,
Pierre Henry,
Jerry's Kids,
the Human League,
Scan 7,
The J.B.'s,
Tomorrow,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Whodini,
Heaven 17,
One Last Wish,
Zero Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Quando Quango,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Sherman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.