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 Macedonia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Man Eating Sloth to the techno 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Mr. Review,
Neil Young,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joe Finger,
Fatback Band,
The Toasters,
Sun City Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radio Birdman,
Pole,
Funkadelic,
Moebius,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Germs,
The Five Americans,
Pantytec,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Womack,
The Barracudas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wally Richardson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Litter,
10cc,
Agitation Free,
Skarface,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Names,
Josef K,
Bluetip,
Lakeside,
Jawbox,
Kool Moe Dee,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kayak,
Popol Vuh,
Mantronix,
Symarip,
The Kinks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Zero Boys,
Ten City,
Eli Mardock,
Spandau Ballet,
Slave,
Cal Tjader,
The Grass Roots,
The Fuzztones,
Visage,
Hashim,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Second Layer,
The Doors,
Technova,
Warsaw,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Adolescents,
In Retrospect,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.