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 Maldives and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dorothy Ashby to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
T. Rex,
Boogie Down Productions,
Spandau Ballet,
Buzzcocks,
Joe Finger,
Max Romeo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joey Negro,
Arcadia,
Faust,
Sam Rivers,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric Copeland,
Wally Richardson,
Lakeside,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
8 Eyed Spy,
Funkadelic,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Talk Talk,
The Techniques,
Lalann,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sound,
Alison Limerick,
AZ,
The Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Thompson Twins,
Zapp,
The Golliwogs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mars,
The Neon Judgement,
Man Parrish,
The Evens,
Second Layer,
The Beau Brummels,
a-ha,
Massinfluence,
James White and The Blacks,
the Germs,
Pulsallama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Godley & Creme,
Surgeon,
Rapeman,
Sexual Harrassment,
CMW,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Slick Rick,
F. McDonald,
The Names,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quantec,
Masters at Work,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.