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 Swaziland and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
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 The Busters to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Goldenarms,
Robert Wyatt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Country Teasers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Connie Case,
Roxette,
Porter Ricks,
Skaos,
The Mummies,
Index,
the Swans,
Mission of Burma,
The Slits,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Freddie Wadling,
This Heat,
Camberwell Now,
Tommy Roe,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arab on Radar,
Wings,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brand Nubian,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Modern Lovers,
The Happenings,
Slick Rick,
Lucky Dragons,
The Associates,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flipper,
Groovy Waters,
Neu!,
Jacob Miller,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
E-Dancer,
Erasure,
Thompson Twins,
KRS-One,
New York Dolls,
Lou Christie,
Chris Corsano,
Jawbox,
Judy Mowatt,
Gong,
The Remains,
Donny Hathaway,
Tubeway Army,
Hoover,
Radio Birdman,
X-102,
Mars,
New Age Steppers,
Metal Thangz,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.