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 Pakistan and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Eyeless In Gaza 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brand Nubian,
Ten City,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Five Americans,
Ludus,
Suicide,
Gabor Szabo,
Pussy Galore,
OOIOO,
Bootsy Collins,
Boredoms,
Schoolly D,
Anakelly,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Litter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bizarre Inc.,
Faraquet,
Sun Ra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alison Limerick,
The Angels of Light,
Sarah Menescal,
Procol Harum,
Alice Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
Section 25,
the Association,
Scion,
The Neon Judgement,
Thee Headcoats,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Excepter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Leaves,
China Crisis,
Stetsasonic,
Ultra Naté,
Johnny Clarke,
Royal Trux,
The Tremeloes,
Sun City Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
Kenny Larkin,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Max Romeo,
The Searchers,
Sex Pistols,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Depeche Mode,
DNA,
Howard Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
The Flesh Eaters,
Qualms,
Pierre Henry,
Suburban Knight,
Lindisfarne,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.