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 Malawi and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Holger Czukay 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 The Fugs to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Kurtis Blow,
Metal Thangz,
Bobby Womack,
Royal Trux,
Section 25,
Ronnie Foster,
Minny Pops,
Lou Christie,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Erykah Badu,
T.S.O.L.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tomorrow,
Massinfluence,
Sex Pistols,
The Martian,
The Walker Brothers,
Sister Nancy,
Procol Harum,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lower 48,
Y Pants,
Saccharine Trust,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
This Heat,
A Certain Ratio,
Roger Hodgson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Simply Red,
Trumans Water,
The Fuzztones,
Circle Jerks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Agent Orange,
The Buckinghams,
Amon Düül II,
Nik Kershaw,
Crispy Ambulance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
New York Dolls,
Peter and Kerry,
Ronan,
The Wake,
Hoover,
Harry Pussy,
Ken Boothe,
Au Pairs,
Ponytail,
Nirvana,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bill Near,
The Trojans,
E-Dancer,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.