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 Tuvalu and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Walker Brothers to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells 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 a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
The Slits,
The Selecter,
Barry Ungar,
Wire,
The Offenders,
Dead Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Leonard Cohen,
Bauhaus,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mojo Men,
Ituana,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David Bowie,
Derrick Morgan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Au Pairs,
The Gun Club,
Patti Smith,
The Grass Roots,
The Gladiators,
Juan Atkins,
Scion,
The Durutti Column,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Real Kids,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Intrusion,
Sarah Menescal,
Neil Young,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Görl,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swell Maps,
The Tremeloes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Newcleus,
Chris Corsano,
Buzzcocks,
Lakeside,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Public Enemy,
Thompson Twins,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Masters at Work,
Mad Mike,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül II,
Skriet,
The Stooges,
Model 500,
Todd Rundgren,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Popol Vuh,
the Association,
David McCallum,
La Düsseldorf,
Funky Four + One,
Gong,
Mr. Review,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.