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 Belgium and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Leaves to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fall,
Boredoms,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Happenings,
Harry Pussy,
Cybotron,
Rufus Thomas,
The Count Five,
KRS-One,
Panda Bear,
The Smoke,
Roy Ayers,
Patti Smith,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Vogues,
Charles Mingus,
Lightning Bolt,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hot Snakes,
Derrick Morgan,
Silicon Teens,
Depeche Mode,
Howard Jones,
Pet Shop Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Technova,
Dead Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Todd Terry,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kerri Chandler,
Heaven 17,
The Gories,
Hoover,
Alison Limerick,
Circle Jerks,
Sixth Finger,
Boogie Down Productions,
Youth Brigade,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Desert Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Piero Umiliani,
Bill Wells,
Loose Ends,
Lalann,
The Move,
The Pop Group,
Black Flag,
Black Bananas,
Gang Starr,
The Red Krayola,
Make Up,
Scion,
Rites of Spring,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.