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 Kosovo and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin 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 The Residents to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Rapeman,
Marine Girls,
The Monks,
China Crisis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Real Kids,
Graham Central Station,
Vladislav Delay,
Con Funk Shun,
Oneida,
Letta Mbulu,
Stetsasonic,
Urselle,
The Moleskins,
James White and The Blacks,
Steve Hackett,
Dark Day,
Outsiders,
Roger Hodgson,
Michelle Simonal,
The Standells,
Barrington Levy,
A Certain Ratio,
Infiniti,
Matthew Halsall,
Joy Division,
Vainqueur,
Cymande,
DJ Style,
Warsaw,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Association,
Panda Bear,
Funkadelic,
Wasted Youth,
Thompson Twins,
The Techniques,
Tommy Roe,
Skaos,
Pussy Galore,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
AZ,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pierre Henry,
Joyce Sims,
The Red Krayola,
Black Moon,
Fat Boys,
Echospace,
The Happenings,
Tomorrow,
David Bowie,
Grauzone,
Scion,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Black Dice,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Residents,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.