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 East Timor and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb 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 Stetsasonic to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Sugar Minott,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jeru the Damaja,
Shuggie Otis,
Blancmange,
Pantaleimon,
Stiv Bators,
Ultimate Spinach,
Whodini,
Aloha Tigers,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Red Krayola,
EPMD,
The Searchers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scrapy,
The Selecter,
Funky Four + One,
John Lydon,
Dennis Brown,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
R.M.O.,
Can,
Icehouse,
The Fall,
Eyeless In Gaza,
One Last Wish,
The Vogues,
Niagra,
Isaac Hayes,
Symarip,
Bluetip,
Rakim,
The Names,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Flipper,
Scan 7,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mission of Burma,
Roxy Music,
a-ha,
Y Pants,
Brothers Johnson,
Hashim,
Chrome,
K-Klass,
Michelle Simonal,
Crash Course in Science,
A Certain Ratio,
Electric Prunes,
Television Personalities,
Pagans,
Todd Rundgren,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang Gang Dance,
Silicon Teens,
Kerrie Biddell,
Harry Pussy,
Warren Ellis,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.