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 Samoa and from Lagos.
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 Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 theremin 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 Siglo XX to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Josef K,
Al Stewart,
Soulsonic Force,
Harry Pussy,
The Grass Roots,
The New Christs,
Bill Wells,
Slick Rick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
Television,
PIL,
F. McDonald,
Marc Almond,
Bluetip,
Tres Demented,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Icehouse,
The Mummies,
Rod Modell,
R.M.O.,
EPMD,
Black Sheep,
Minutemen,
Zero Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Donny Hathaway,
Jerry's Kids,
Smog,
Anthony Braxton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Soul II Soul,
Q and Not U,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jeff Mills,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Barry Ungar,
Unwound,
AZ,
The Fugs,
Kayak,
Eve St. Jones,
Scrapy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bang On A Can,
The Neon Judgement,
Letta Mbulu,
Inner City,
The Detroit Cobras,
Steve Hackett,
Lou Reed,
The Slackers,
Neu!,
The Monks,
Mars,
Moby Grape,
The Walker Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
D'Angelo,
Pere Ubu,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.