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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba 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 Rufus Thomas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
The Names,
Minny Pops,
Tears for Fears,
Au Pairs,
Yazoo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bad Manners,
The Motions,
Susan Cadogan,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Magma,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Crash Course in Science,
The American Breed,
Gang of Four,
Jacques Brel,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter & Gordon,
Sex Pistols,
The Velvet Underground,
Parry Music,
Aural Exciters,
The Remains,
Jandek,
Lou Reed,
Brand Nubian,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ken Boothe,
Television Personalities,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Warren Ellis,
The Neon Judgement,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Foxx,
Robert Hood,
The Sound,
Ossler,
Yusef Lateef,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Nico,
Neu!,
The Star Department,
Chris & Cosey,
F. McDonald,
Danielle Patucci,
Masters at Work,
Roger Hodgson,
Fatback Band,
China Crisis,
Laurel Aitken,
Brick,
Subhumans,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.