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 Togo and from Bremen.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 ABC to the rock 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
D'Angelo,
MC5,
Blossom Toes,
Jacques Brel,
The Angels of Light,
The Beau Brummels,
Skarface,
X-102,
Letta Mbulu,
Vainqueur,
Television Personalities,
The Music Machine,
DNA,
Andrew Hill,
Michelle Simonal,
Minor Threat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mad Mike,
Underground Resistance,
The Slits,
The Searchers,
The Busters,
the Germs,
Lou Reed,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Popol Vuh,
This Heat,
Simply Red,
Subhumans,
Aural Exciters,
Kerri Chandler,
Mars,
Delta 5,
Robert Wyatt,
Jawbox,
Fluxion,
Animal Collective,
Donald Byrd,
Kerrie Biddell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Buckinghams,
Tommy Roe,
Infiniti,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
James White and The Blacks,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blackbyrds,
Pussy Galore,
The Last Poets,
Surgeon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cymande,
Piero Umiliani,
Cheater Slicks,
Todd Rundgren,
Arab on Radar,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hardrive,
U.S. Maple,
Q65,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.