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 Iran and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the sitar 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fela Kuti,
Country Teasers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Man Eating Sloth,
Suburban Knight,
The Stooges,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scott Walker,
Lindisfarne,
Steve Hackett,
The Saints,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Golliwogs,
Ronan,
Amon Düül II,
The Star Department,
Cybotron,
Youth Brigade,
Spoonie Gee,
Mandrill,
The Searchers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fat Boys,
John Cale,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Durutti Column,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bill Near,
D'Angelo,
Dawn Penn,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Alton Ellis,
Yusef Lateef,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Evens,
Duran Duran,
Sun City Girls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Move,
The Misunderstood,
The Gun Club,
Marmalade,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joyce Sims,
Shuggie Otis,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aural Exciters,
Grauzone,
Magma,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pole,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kurtis Blow,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cowsills,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.