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 Rwanda and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dead Boys to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roxette,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
Buzzcocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Soul II Soul,
The Red Krayola,
The Associates,
Althea and Donna,
World's Most,
Arab on Radar,
Blake Baxter,
Alison Limerick,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gong,
Fad Gadget,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Soft Cell,
Thompson Twins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cal Tjader,
Franke,
Excepter,
Wasted Youth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sugar Minott,
ABBA,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Offenders,
Swans,
Glenn Branca,
Deadbeat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Morten Harket,
Ken Boothe,
Suicide,
Desert Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Sonics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Masters at Work,
David Bowie,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Archie Shepp,
Cybotron,
Reuben Wilson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Maurizio,
Underground Resistance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Half Japanese,
T. Rex,
Quadrant,
Brand Nubian,
Joe Finger,
Nirvana,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.