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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Thee Headcoats to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Archie Shepp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Charles Mingus,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brick,
Skarface,
Pere Ubu,
the Association,
The Busters,
Flipper,
Brand Nubian,
Swell Maps,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kenny Larkin,
The Beau Brummels,
Grauzone,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Real Kids,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cramps,
OOIOO,
Sound Behaviour,
The Techniques,
Amon Düül II,
The Zeros,
Mantronix,
Soulsonic Force,
These Immortal Souls,
Trumans Water,
Sällskapet,
The United States of America,
Wings,
Mars,
The Misunderstood,
Slave,
The Cure,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Popol Vuh,
Unwound,
Drexciya,
Tubeway Army,
The Victims,
Nas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tim Buckley,
Roxy Music,
Bob Dylan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Magazine,
Pantytec,
The Fuzztones,
Deepchord,
Buzzcocks,
Lightning Bolt,
Derrick May,
Harmonia,
Shoche,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.