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 Uzbekistan and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 James White and The Blacks to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Buzzcocks,
Agitation Free,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marine Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Maleditus Sound,
Rekid,
Pere Ubu,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gabor Szabo,
Nik Kershaw,
Tears for Fears,
Livin' Joy,
Fad Gadget,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Techniques,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Youth Brigade,
Skriet,
Crime,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alton Ellis,
the Germs,
Jeff Mills,
The Happenings,
Smog,
Nico,
Monks,
Gong,
Cybotron,
Donald Byrd,
Sandy B,
Roxette,
Freddie Wadling,
the Human League,
Subhumans,
Crash Course in Science,
Yellowson,
Kas Product,
MDC,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joyce Sims,
The Sisters of Mercy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Litter,
The Names,
The Gladiators,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Motions,
Country Teasers,
Eve St. Jones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Suicide,
Minor Threat,
Hashim,
Pylon,
Can,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tropical Tobacco,
H. Thieme,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.