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 Norway and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
X-Ray Spex,
John Lydon,
Anakelly,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pussy Galore,
The Move,
Average White Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Graham Central Station,
Los Fastidios,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Music Machine,
T.S.O.L.,
Buzzcocks,
Barrington Levy,
Sparks,
Scrapy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lightning Bolt,
Todd Terry,
Intrusion,
Television,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Angels of Light,
The Zeros,
Zapp,
Toni Rubio,
Josef K,
The Stooges,
Spandau Ballet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minutemen,
Cameo,
The Toasters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scratch Acid,
the Normal,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pole,
Joy Division,
Morten Harket,
The Cramps,
Siglo XX,
Max Romeo,
Echospace,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Womack,
Circle Jerks,
LL Cool J,
Eden Ahbez,
Tropical Tobacco,
Schoolly D,
Andrew Hill,
Chris & Cosey,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Unwound,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.