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 Montenegro and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Moleskins to the rap 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Mandrill,
Joyce Sims,
The Moody Blues,
Kerrie Biddell,
Suicide,
The Sonics,
Qualms,
Delon & Dalcan,
Groovy Waters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Symarip,
Scion,
the Sonics,
Rekid,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Quando Quango,
Television,
Danielle Patucci,
The Blackbyrds,
Arcadia,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ossler,
Marshall Jefferson,
Depeche Mode,
Fat Boys,
The Human League,
Black Moon,
The Blues Magoos,
Deadbeat,
Fear,
Franke,
The Busters,
Toni Rubio,
F. McDonald,
Todd Rundgren,
The Electric Prunes,
Surgeon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oneida,
Loose Ends,
Alphaville,
Maleditus Sound,
Alton Ellis,
Unwound,
Second Layer,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lindisfarne,
Drive Like Jehu,
D'Angelo,
Sparks,
Sister Nancy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Stooges,
Barrington Levy,
the Slits,
Masters at Work,
The Sound,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.