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 United States and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bob Dylan to the electroclash 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cameo,
Agent Orange,
Soulsonic Force,
Liliput,
Lower 48,
Groovy Waters,
The Seeds,
The Victims,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Reagan Youth,
Cymande,
Unwound,
World's Most,
Vainqueur,
Theoretical Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Juan Atkins,
Scrapy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mantronix,
Kurtis Blow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Althea and Donna,
Sight & Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Johnny Clarke,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
KRS-One,
Average White Band,
Donald Byrd,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Slave,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Remains,
Blake Baxter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thee Headcoats,
Yellowson,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Zapp,
The Black Dice,
The Pretty Things,
Eden Ahbez,
Eyeless In Gaza,
LL Cool J,
Roger Hodgson,
Wasted Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Sparks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fela Kuti,
Loose Ends,
Quadrant,
Magma,
Q65,
The Fall,
Lucky Dragons,
Scott Walker,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.