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 Georgia and from New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Heaven 17 to the grunge 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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon 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?
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Byrd,
10cc,
Matthew Bourne,
Nico,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Knickerbockers,
Susan Cadogan,
Rites of Spring,
Heaven 17,
The Sonics,
Lyres,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
a-ha,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Babytalk,
Eric B and Rakim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Section 25,
Parry Music,
The Count Five,
Average White Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Smoke,
Freddie Wadling,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grey Daturas,
Public Image Ltd.,
Amon Düül II,
Aural Exciters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Josef K,
Lebanon Hanover,
Moebius,
Lungfish,
Judy Mowatt,
B.T. Express,
Barry Ungar,
The Last Poets,
Shuggie Otis,
Hoover,
Dennis Brown,
K-Klass,
The Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Names,
The Vogues,
DJ Sneak,
Jeff Mills,
The Music Machine,
The Monochrome Set,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.