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 New Zealand and from Lille.
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 Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tim Buckley to the dance 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Human League,
Severed Heads,
Subhumans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bad Manners,
Harry Pussy,
Gang Green,
Nik Kershaw,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yaz,
Rapeman,
Lindisfarne,
Underground Resistance,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hardrive,
Dennis Brown,
David Axelrod,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Holt,
Black Pus,
Wire,
Arcadia,
Joe Finger,
Susan Cadogan,
Bill Wells,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nas,
Theoretical Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brand Nubian,
the Bar-Kays,
The Slackers,
Mary Jane Girls,
The New Christs,
Robert Görl,
Hot Snakes,
Joyce Sims,
Drexciya,
Man Parrish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Shuggie Otis,
Amon Düül II,
Porter Ricks,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
June Days,
Scratch Acid,
Pet Shop Boys,
Q and Not U,
Bang On A Can,
Dead Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.