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 Belize and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blossom Toes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Byron Stingily,
Mantronix,
Minnie Riperton,
ABBA,
Jeru the Damaja,
Reuben Wilson,
Parry Music,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Robert Wyatt,
PIL,
LL Cool J,
U.S. Maple,
Tubeway Army,
The Invisible,
Hot Snakes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
Second Layer,
Junior Murvin,
The Gories,
Matthew Halsall,
Joe Finger,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Byrd,
a-ha,
Suburban Knight,
Scratch Acid,
Blossom Toes,
Niagra,
Jacques Brel,
The Names,
Ice-T,
Cheater Slicks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Drexciya,
Danielle Patucci,
Gregory Isaacs,
Josef K,
John Holt,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Carl Craig,
The Detroit Cobras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sarah Menescal,
The Toasters,
FM Einheit,
Wire,
Rekid,
Moebius,
D'Angelo,
Jandek,
Derrick May,
Joyce Sims,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Real Kids,
Wings,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.