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 Nigeria and from Copenhagen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eli Mardock,
Mo-Dettes,
The Modern Lovers,
Fatback Band,
Glenn Branca,
the Bar-Kays,
New Order,
CMW,
Roy Ayers,
The Slackers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
In Retrospect,
Aural Exciters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
World's Most,
Kayak,
The Music Machine,
Cybotron,
Brand Nubian,
The Offenders,
Country Teasers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ponytail,
Tomorrow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lakeside,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Index,
Echospace,
Amazonics,
Sex Pistols,
Oneida,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Erasure,
Malaria!,
Suicide,
AZ,
Liliput,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Q65,
Section 25,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arab on Radar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gap Band,
Scratch Acid,
Anakelly,
Popol Vuh,
Black Moon,
Interpol,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nik Kershaw,
Nico,
John Cale,
Peter and Kerry,
Eurythmics,
Wally Richardson,
MDC,
Minor Threat,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.