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 Egypt and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gabor Szabo to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms 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 rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
The Pop Group,
Intrusion,
Lungfish,
Minny Pops,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rekid,
The Move,
Malaria!,
New Order,
Aloha Tigers,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Last Poets,
Quadrant,
DNA,
The Cowsills,
The Smoke,
Faraquet,
Mr. Review,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yazoo,
Skarface,
Henry Cow,
Visage,
Gastr Del Sol,
Half Japanese,
Crooked Eye,
Groovy Waters,
the Human League,
Skriet,
Ken Boothe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
ABC,
Judy Mowatt,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Cell,
Warren Ellis,
Roxy Music,
The Electric Prunes,
Janne Schatter,
Cluster,
Fela Kuti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Stetsasonic,
Lou Reed,
Hasil Adkins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Arcadia,
Little Man,
Donny Hathaway,
AZ,
Ice-T,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers,
DJ Sneak,
Desert Stars,
The Black Dice,
Gang Starr,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eden Ahbez,
Sex Pistols,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.