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 Malta and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
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 theremin 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 Martian to the crunk 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Henry Cow,
Von Mondo,
Kaleidoscope,
The Smoke,
MC5,
Janne Schatter,
Prince Buster,
Sixth Finger,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Moody Blues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fugazi,
Monolake,
The Kinks,
Funky Four + One,
Dave Gahan,
Crooked Eye,
Jeff Mills,
The Music Machine,
Sällskapet,
Sight & Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Red Krayola,
The Zeros,
Lalann,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Toasters,
Livin' Joy,
Agitation Free,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Slackers,
The Vogues,
Rekid,
the Slits,
Laurel Aitken,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Absolute Body Control,
Roy Ayers,
F. McDonald,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
One Last Wish,
Newcleus,
The Fire Engines,
Massinfluence,
Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Thompson Twins,
Pagans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
T. Rex,
Yellowson,
Bang On A Can,
Pylon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moby Grape,
The Slits,
Cal Tjader,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.