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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the güiro 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 Scrapy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Cecil Taylor,
Pussy Galore,
the Human League,
Interpol,
Eddi Front,
Idris Muhammad,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bush Tetras,
X-101,
Cheater Slicks,
John Lydon,
Mission of Burma,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sexual Harrassment,
Symarip,
Black Bananas,
the Slits,
New Age Steppers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eric Copeland,
Organ,
Al Stewart,
John Foxx,
The Skatalites,
The Misunderstood,
The Toasters,
ABBA,
Thompson Twins,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
X-Ray Spex,
Crime,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marshall Jefferson,
Maleditus Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Gichy Dan,
Fela Kuti,
Dennis Brown,
Quantec,
Surgeon,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Warren Ellis,
Make Up,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gong,
Leonard Cohen,
David Bowie,
Skaos,
These Immortal Souls,
Popol Vuh,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Smoke,
Porter Ricks,
Grey Daturas,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blossom Toes,
OOIOO,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.