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 Malawi and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Sonny Sharrock,
T.S.O.L.,
Cameo,
Joey Negro,
Inner City,
Rites of Spring,
Flipper,
Sound Behaviour,
Minor Threat,
The Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Can,
T. Rex,
Spandau Ballet,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
Deakin,
Bobby Sherman,
Neu!,
Thompson Twins,
Laurel Aitken,
Symarip,
Wolf Eyes,
Cheater Slicks,
Porter Ricks,
Ituana,
Lightning Bolt,
Half Japanese,
Rapeman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soft Cell,
Qualms,
Masters at Work,
Echospace,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aswad,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Magazine,
Peter & Gordon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joe Finger,
James White and The Blacks,
H. Thieme,
Heaven 17,
Hashim,
Minutemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David Axelrod,
The Associates,
kango's stein massive,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dennis Brown,
the Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Franke,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pole,
Harry Pussy,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Foxx,
Grey Daturas,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.