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 Somalia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Chris & Cosey to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Nick Fraelich,
Howard Jones,
Quadrant,
Brick,
Rufus Thomas,
Oblivians,
PIL,
Mr. Review,
the Bar-Kays,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Morten Harket,
Drive Like Jehu,
Leonard Cohen,
The Residents,
Kool Moe Dee,
X-102,
Panda Bear,
Robert Hood,
Yazoo,
Malaria!,
The Real Kids,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grauzone,
Gang of Four,
The Dave Clark Five,
Moebius,
Saccharine Trust,
Bauhaus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Last Poets,
Camberwell Now,
EPMD,
Roy Ayers,
Maleditus Sound,
Q65,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Slave,
Franke,
Jacques Brel,
Roger Hodgson,
Cameo,
Deepchord,
Faraquet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
One Last Wish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Blackbyrds,
Junior Murvin,
Brand Nubian,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Electric Prunes,
Barbara Tucker,
Soft Cell,
Symarip,
CMW,
Juan Atkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Offenders,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.