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 Italy and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mandrill to the disco 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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Golliwogs,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Blues Magoos,
Aaron Thompson,
Suburban Knight,
Thompson Twins,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moleskins,
The Durutti Column,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Vogues,
Heaven 17,
Mr. Review,
Babytalk,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New York Dolls,
The Leaves,
Lakeside,
Monks,
Deadbeat,
Gastr Del Sol,
Boz Scaggs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Urselle,
The Selecter,
Lalann,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cowsills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
X-Ray Spex,
Half Japanese,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pantytec,
Siglo XX,
Ituana,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Andrew Hill,
Soul II Soul,
Man Parrish,
Warsaw,
Eric Copeland,
Das Ding,
John Lydon,
Rapeman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brass Construction,
The Monks,
Scan 7,
Motorama,
Curtis Mayfield,
Absolute Body Control,
Jeff Mills,
The Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
The Moody Blues,
Ornette Coleman,
The J.B.'s,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Audionom,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.