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 Maldives and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 Hoover to the funk 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Warsaw,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gichy Dan,
Visage,
The Beau Brummels,
Clear Light,
Lou Reed,
Camouflage,
Saccharine Trust,
Das Ding,
The Dirtbombs,
Cecil Taylor,
The Selecter,
Bronski Beat,
Skaos,
The Mummies,
Roxette,
Bobby Womack,
Black Sheep,
Susan Cadogan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Reagan Youth,
June of 44,
Chris Corsano,
The Standells,
Funky Four + One,
DJ Sneak,
The Saints,
Brothers Johnson,
Judy Mowatt,
Little Man,
Tears for Fears,
Iggy Pop,
Yusef Lateef,
The Blackbyrds,
The Victims,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fortunes,
The Fire Engines,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scrapy,
Bobby Byrd,
The Divine Comedy,
Severed Heads,
Deakin,
Supertramp,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Agent Orange,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Christie,
Bush Tetras,
Ten City,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Star Department,
Eve St. Jones,
Electric Prunes,
Letta Mbulu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
PIL,
Bill Wells,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.