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 Panama and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Country Teasers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Pole,
H. Thieme,
Trumans Water,
Patti Smith,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ituana,
The Toasters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Franke,
The United States of America,
Magazine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Malaria!,
the Swans,
Maurizio,
The Real Kids,
Arthur Verocai,
Swell Maps,
Radio Birdman,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bob Dylan,
Qualms,
Ponytail,
Jacques Brel,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Tremeloes,
Zero Boys,
Reuben Wilson,
Yazoo,
Brand Nubian,
Flipper,
The Golliwogs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jeff Mills,
Minnie Riperton,
Basic Channel,
Cymande,
Eli Mardock,
Jacob Miller,
The Smoke,
New Age Steppers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Faraquet,
Youth Brigade,
Mission of Burma,
Pantaleimon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Little Man,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Saints,
Country Teasers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scientists,
The Gap Band,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.