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 India and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cowsills 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Sex Pistols,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soul Sonic Force,
Goldenarms,
Marmalade,
Peter & Gordon,
L. Decosne,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ice-T,
John Coltrane,
Flash Fearless,
Sällskapet,
Swell Maps,
Rotary Connection,
Moebius,
Juan Atkins,
Gichy Dan,
Soul II Soul,
Yazoo,
Tres Demented,
X-102,
Darondo,
Circle Jerks,
Skriet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Susan Cadogan,
Jeff Mills,
Hashim,
The Saints,
Rufus Thomas,
Toni Rubio,
World's Most,
Fear,
Depeche Mode,
Scientists,
Lakeside,
Aswad,
Bauhaus,
Pagans,
Janne Schatter,
Pussy Galore,
Brick,
Tom Boy,
Fugazi,
Althea and Donna,
Cameo,
The Beau Brummels,
Supertramp,
The Gun Club,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Colin Newman,
The Fire Engines,
Jawbox,
The Smoke,
Nico,
Deadbeat,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.