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 Namibia and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
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 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 Mantronix to the jazz 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Stiv Bators,
Mr. Review,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Iggy Pop,
Groovy Waters,
T. Rex,
the Human League,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bush Tetras,
EPMD,
New York Dolls,
Aloha Tigers,
T.S.O.L.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soft Machine,
Peter and Kerry,
Neil Young,
The Mummies,
The Victims,
Ludus,
Smog,
Scratch Acid,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bronski Beat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Black Bananas,
Gang Green,
Hasil Adkins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Leonard Cohen,
Saccharine Trust,
The Red Krayola,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blake Baxter,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suicide,
Accadde A,
Steve Hackett,
The Music Machine,
Soft Cell,
Q and Not U,
Lungfish,
Desert Stars,
Japan,
Negative Approach,
The Real Kids,
Unwound,
Monks,
The Velvet Underground,
Rites of Spring,
Matthew Halsall,
Babytalk,
B.T. Express,
The Doors,
48th St. Collective,
Pierre Henry,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.