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 Burundi and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
the Soft Cell,
Wire,
The Evens,
Nik Kershaw,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Arab on Radar,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minnie Riperton,
L. Decosne,
Zapp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alice Coltrane,
Brand Nubian,
Aswad,
Faraquet,
Scratch Acid,
Urselle,
Terry Callier,
Joe Smooth,
The Birthday Party,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sixth Finger,
Joey Negro,
Neu!,
Simply Red,
Stetsasonic,
Blancmange,
Gang Green,
Magma,
LL Cool J,
Sam Rivers,
Pussy Galore,
the Fania All-Stars,
Organ,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cramps,
Average White Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Germs,
The J.B.'s,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pere Ubu,
Flipper,
Make Up,
the Association,
The Slackers,
Whodini,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed,
Anakelly,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Blossom Toes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
UT,
the Normal,
Lou Christie,
Patti Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.