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 Benin and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Toasters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
E-Dancer,
Dead Boys,
Fluxion,
DNA,
U.S. Maple,
The Mojo Men,
Cal Tjader,
The Birthday Party,
The Slackers,
Gang Starr,
Davy DMX,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hoover,
Sam Rivers,
Porter Ricks,
Skarface,
Organ,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Shoche,
Soft Cell,
The Walker Brothers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arcadia,
Derrick Morgan,
Minor Threat,
8 Eyed Spy,
These Immortal Souls,
The Remains,
10cc,
The Dirtbombs,
Symarip,
John Foxx,
Eli Mardock,
Godley & Creme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eve St. Jones,
OOIOO,
The Tremeloes,
Brand Nubian,
Chrome,
Gichy Dan,
Wasted Youth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Barracudas,
Ultravox,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hardrive,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lou Christie,
cv313,
Anakelly,
Derrick May,
Masters at Work,
The Slits,
X-102,
Siglo XX,
Sight & Sound,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.