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 Somalia and from Johannesburg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Spokane.
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 mellotron 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The New Christs,
Sound Behaviour,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Livin' Joy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DJ Style,
Wings,
Al Stewart,
Ultravox,
T. Rex,
Dual Sessions,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ossler,
Qualms,
Black Bananas,
Charles Mingus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Leaves,
Scion,
Susan Cadogan,
Interpol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Beau Brummels,
Visage,
Nils Olav,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Newcleus,
JFA,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-102,
Don Cherry,
K-Klass,
The Angels of Light,
The Moleskins,
Pulsallama,
Eric Dolphy,
Supertramp,
Sister Nancy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Sherman,
The Slits,
Royal Trux,
Ultra Naté,
Chris Corsano,
Television Personalities,
F. McDonald,
Tubeway Army,
Section 25,
Sun Ra,
DJ Sneak,
Kerri Chandler,
8 Eyed Spy,
Boz Scaggs,
Crime,
Hot Snakes,
Scratch Acid,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Womack,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.