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 Marshall Islands and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Second Layer to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
R.M.O.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Anthony Braxton,
Tears for Fears,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Henry Cow,
K-Klass,
Yusef Lateef,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ronan,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Motions,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Neu!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sällskapet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers,
Cluster,
Howard Jones,
Pussy Galore,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gregory Isaacs,
Surgeon,
Essential Logic,
Magazine,
Prince Buster,
Robert Wyatt,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mary Jane Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
48th St. Collective,
Grauzone,
Bobby Sherman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kurtis Blow,
DNA,
Crispian St. Peters,
Blancmange,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rapeman,
Cal Tjader,
June Days,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joe Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Matthew Halsall,
The Saints,
Drexciya,
Niagra,
The Index,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aloha Tigers,
CMW,
The Pop Group,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.