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 Czech Republic and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 The Standells to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
X-101,
Cameo,
Moebius,
Marine Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Stiv Bators,
Heaven 17,
Animal Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Offenders,
Nik Kershaw,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ornette Coleman,
Wings,
Japan,
Mandrill,
Davy DMX,
The Dirtbombs,
John Cale,
The Searchers,
Sandy B,
Ultra Naté,
Glenn Branca,
Intrusion,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Divine Comedy,
Don Cherry,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Axelrod,
The Beau Brummels,
DNA,
Lucky Dragons,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Doors,
Los Fastidios,
Reuben Wilson,
Cluster,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Sneak,
H. Thieme,
Jacob Miller,
Motorama,
The Black Dice,
Thee Headcoats,
The Neon Judgement,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mark Hollis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gabor Szabo,
Funky Four + One,
Interpol,
Matthew Halsall,
Massinfluence,
Rufus Thomas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.