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 Turkmenistan and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 AZ 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Desert Stars,
Babytalk,
Alison Limerick,
Bluetip,
Big Daddy Kane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fugazi,
The Tremeloes,
Dark Day,
Interpol,
Von Mondo,
Black Flag,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minutemen,
Pierre Henry,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fire Engines,
Crime,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Popol Vuh,
The Mojo Men,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang Gang Dance,
B.T. Express,
Idris Muhammad,
The Electric Prunes,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Maurizio,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gong,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Saints,
Guru Guru,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lakeside,
Animal Collective,
Masters at Work,
Technova,
Godley & Creme,
Soft Cell,
Boredoms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Dirtbombs,
Magma,
Bad Manners,
Marine Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Fad Gadget,
the Swans,
Cluster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Byrd,
Wasted Youth,
Jandek,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.