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 San Marino and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dorothy Ashby to the punk 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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kayak,
Carl Craig,
Roxette,
The Evens,
The Gladiators,
Marmalade,
The Buckinghams,
The Names,
Pagans,
The Skatalites,
Public Enemy,
Goldenarms,
Radiohead,
The Gun Club,
Sällskapet,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zero Boys,
The Gap Band,
Max Romeo,
MC5,
Henry Cow,
The Tremeloes,
48th St. Collective,
The Walker Brothers,
Terry Callier,
CMW,
Drexciya,
Brand Nubian,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
The American Breed,
Motorama,
Patti Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mummies,
Flash Fearless,
Chris Corsano,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gabor Szabo,
the Human League,
Ronan,
the Germs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fluxion,
Aloha Tigers,
These Immortal Souls,
Davy DMX,
Amon Düül II,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Metal Thangz,
Spandau Ballet,
Sugar Minott,
Ten City,
John Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.