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 Qatar and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Magma to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
New Order,
Dave Gahan,
Average White Band,
Godley & Creme,
Outsiders,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Skatalites,
Scan 7,
John Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wings,
Kayak,
Chris & Cosey,
Clear Light,
Sam Rivers,
Rosa Yemen,
Carl Craig,
Arcadia,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pulsallama,
Mantronix,
Archie Shepp,
Hashim,
The Young Rascals,
Con Funk Shun,
Hasil Adkins,
Lungfish,
Eden Ahbez,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Brand Nubian,
Sister Nancy,
F. McDonald,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Terry Callier,
Jacques Brel,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barrington Levy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Last Poets,
Josef K,
The Martian,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ponytail,
Peter and Kerry,
These Immortal Souls,
Derrick May,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Mojo Men,
48th St. Collective,
Bush Tetras,
Can,
The Human League,
Technova,
Bronski Beat,
The Stooges,
Pylon,
Byron Stingily,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.