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 Sudan and from Edmonton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Association to the grime 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Skatalites,
The Alarm Clocks,
Model 500,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ponytail,
Grauzone,
Marc Almond,
Henry Cow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Easy Going,
The Index,
Boredoms,
New York Dolls,
Ornette Coleman,
Wings,
Alice Coltrane,
Anthony Braxton,
Warsaw,
Minutemen,
The Angels of Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echospace,
Ultravox,
Animal Collective,
Newcleus,
JFA,
The Kinks,
Joyce Sims,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
E-Dancer,
Das Ding,
Chris & Cosey,
Con Funk Shun,
Organ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cheater Slicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
KRS-One,
Arab on Radar,
Aaron Thompson,
Barry Ungar,
DNA,
Scrapy,
B.T. Express,
Todd Terry,
Faust,
Von Mondo,
Erykah Badu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
R.M.O.,
Slave,
Charles Mingus,
The Techniques,
James White and The Blacks,
Accadde A,
The Fall,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Freddie Wadling,
Brass Construction,
The Red Krayola,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.