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 Israel and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Roxette to the electroclash 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Bush Tetras,
Jerry's Kids,
Ornette Coleman,
Dead Boys,
Niagra,
Deakin,
AZ,
Panda Bear,
Slick Rick,
Drexciya,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nico,
Man Parrish,
T. Rex,
Von Mondo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Normal,
Unwound,
Y Pants,
Godley & Creme,
Urselle,
B.T. Express,
Liliput,
Tomorrow,
A Certain Ratio,
Aaron Thompson,
Buzzcocks,
Livin' Joy,
New Order,
New Age Steppers,
Scan 7,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Birthday Party,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Offenders,
Amazonics,
the Soft Cell,
Aswad,
Mandrill,
Alton Ellis,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cure,
F. McDonald,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brand Nubian,
DNA,
Dark Day,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cramps,
The Mummies,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hardrive,
The Grass Roots,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Derrick May,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.