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 Libya and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 La Düsseldorf to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Girls At Our Best!,
Chris Corsano,
Tom Boy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tim Buckley,
Soft Cell,
Loose Ends,
The Moleskins,
Youth Brigade,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eve St. Jones,
Pussy Galore,
Y Pants,
Rod Modell,
Dark Day,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cybotron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Delta 5,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Victims,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Oneida,
Scratch Acid,
Leonard Cohen,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gong,
Cluster,
K-Klass,
The Pop Group,
B.T. Express,
Rosa Yemen,
Derrick May,
MC5,
Sällskapet,
The Birthday Party,
The Doors,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
Procol Harum,
Sound Behaviour,
Joe Finger,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mummies,
The Leaves,
Cameo,
H. Thieme,
Howard Jones,
Todd Terry,
The Zeros,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Tremeloes,
Swans,
Duran Duran,
Pantytec,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Motorama,
John Holt,
Barry Ungar,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.