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 Equatorial Guinea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Eric Copeland to the funk 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Scan 7,
Tubeway Army,
Radio Birdman,
The Selecter,
Sonic Youth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pussy Galore,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mr. Review,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Saccharine Trust,
Connie Case,
Bill Near,
The Kinks,
Gabor Szabo,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Bananas,
Sandy B,
Pylon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ohio Players,
Sister Nancy,
Drexciya,
Archie Shepp,
Alton Ellis,
Gang of Four,
Colin Newman,
The Evens,
The Monks,
Tears for Fears,
The Invisible,
Second Layer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Neu!,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mandrill,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gories,
Althea and Donna,
Eric Dolphy,
Nik Kershaw,
Ice-T,
The Smoke,
The Slits,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Human League,
Inner City,
Surgeon,
MC5,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jacob Miller,
AZ,
Jesper Dahlback,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.