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 Cambodia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Jesper Dahlback to the dance 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Rekid,
The Pretty Things,
Kayak,
Dawn Penn,
Todd Terry,
Khruangbin,
Slick Rick,
Bronski Beat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Bananas,
L. Decosne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Pus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Spandau Ballet,
The Standells,
Angry Samoans,
Simply Red,
Amon Düül II,
Alton Ellis,
Terry Callier,
The Fall,
Godley & Creme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fear,
The Fuzztones,
This Heat,
JFA,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mummies,
Little Man,
Theoretical Girls,
Aural Exciters,
John Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ponytail,
The Mojo Men,
Laurel Aitken,
Basic Channel,
Parry Music,
Country Teasers,
Henry Cow,
MDC,
Public Enemy,
Television Personalities,
Connie Case,
The Victims,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Michelle Simonal,
Young Marble Giants,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Foxx,
Nick Fraelich,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Motions,
Von Mondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.