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 South Sudan and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ 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 Deepchord to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
MDC,
Matthew Bourne,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultra Naté,
Young Marble Giants,
CMW,
The Fugs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Interpol,
Underground Resistance,
David McCallum,
La Düsseldorf,
The Cramps,
Harmonia,
Unrelated Segments,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mad Mike,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Glenn Branca,
Ponytail,
Magazine,
Anakelly,
Amazonics,
Pole,
Quadrant,
The Red Krayola,
Rakim,
Tres Demented,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scratch Acid,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barbara Tucker,
Deakin,
Piero Umiliani,
Howard Jones,
The Neon Judgement,
Matthew Halsall,
Tim Buckley,
the Slits,
The Fall,
Stockholm Monsters,
EPMD,
Deadbeat,
Thee Headcoats,
cv313,
Iggy Pop,
Slick Rick,
Dark Day,
Mr. Review,
Hot Snakes,
The Smiths,
Glambeats Corp.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ralphi Rosario,
Peter & Gordon,
Robert Wyatt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Danielle Patucci,
Fluxion,
John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.