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 Luxembourg and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Amon Düül II to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Sam Rivers,
The Durutti Column,
The Birthday Party,
The Vogues,
Fatback Band,
DNA,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Heaven 17,
Negative Approach,
Chris & Cosey,
K-Klass,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Aswad,
Steve Hackett,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Can,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Loose Ends,
Deepchord,
Gerry Rafferty,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Techniques,
10cc,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare,
Reagan Youth,
The Real Kids,
Visage,
Faraquet,
Toni Rubio,
Dave Gahan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Von Mondo,
Pole,
Howard Jones,
Joe Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Trojans,
Harry Pussy,
Scratch Acid,
Prince Buster,
Surgeon,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Almond,
Desert Stars,
Joyce Sims,
The Doors,
The Fortunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sonic Youth,
The Five Americans,
H. Thieme,
Pagans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.