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 Antigua and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mr. Review to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Alarm Clocks,
Derrick Morgan,
Cluster,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Angels of Light,
Swans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lightning Bolt,
Suicide,
Nik Kershaw,
Jeff Lynne,
Pole,
The Dead C,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pere Ubu,
The Names,
The Happenings,
Jeff Mills,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Magma,
Camouflage,
Sällskapet,
Grauzone,
Sun Ra,
Flash Fearless,
Neil Young,
Susan Cadogan,
Joe Smooth,
The Dirtbombs,
The Sonics,
The Trojans,
Malaria!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mandrill,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Christie,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mars,
Model 500,
The Saints,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lakeside,
Au Pairs,
Isaac Hayes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Little Man,
Infiniti,
Jesper Dahlback,
Alton Ellis,
Gregory Isaacs,
Banda Bassotti,
Charles Mingus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
La Düsseldorf,
FM Einheit,
Ronnie Foster,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mummies,
Minny Pops,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.