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 Papua New Guinea and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Black Bananas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Lucky Dragons,
The Divine Comedy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crooked Eye,
T.S.O.L.,
The Slackers,
Simply Red,
New York Dolls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Half Japanese,
Hashim,
Fear,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kevin Saunderson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Barracudas,
Dead Boys,
The Neon Judgement,
Rapeman,
Silicon Teens,
David McCallum,
The Fire Engines,
The Happenings,
Stiv Bators,
Public Enemy,
Gang of Four,
Matthew Halsall,
the Soft Cell,
F. McDonald,
Morten Harket,
Wire,
Brothers Johnson,
a-ha,
LL Cool J,
Suburban Knight,
Idris Muhammad,
Masters at Work,
Sun City Girls,
The Modern Lovers,
Bill Near,
Neil Young,
Kaleidoscope,
The Blackbyrds,
The Searchers,
Wally Richardson,
Tom Boy,
Toni Rubio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
UT,
Boogie Down Productions,
KRS-One,
Royal Trux,
The Sonics,
Michelle Simonal,
Rekid,
Deepchord,
Agitation Free,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Vogues,
Lalann,
Con Funk Shun,
Bauhaus,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.