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 Croatia and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Reagan Youth to the disco 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
June Days,
Scientists,
Nas,
U.S. Maple,
X-102,
Howard Jones,
Nico,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
New Age Steppers,
Circle Jerks,
The Divine Comedy,
Darondo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Supertramp,
China Crisis,
The Doors,
Delta 5,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Visage,
CMW,
Easy Going,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Black Dice,
K-Klass,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobby Sherman,
Barbara Tucker,
Cluster,
Lalann,
Marc Almond,
A Certain Ratio,
Pagans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jacob Miller,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Drexciya,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Make Up,
Cameo,
These Immortal Souls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oblivians,
Inner City,
Heaven 17,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The American Breed,
MDC,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ronan,
The Fortunes,
Judy Mowatt,
Dave Gahan,
Zero Boys,
Godley & Creme,
Peter and Kerry,
New York Dolls,
Accadde A,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Morten Harket,
Thompson Twins,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.