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 Barbados and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the crunk 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Byron Stingily,
The Gladiators,
Icehouse,
U.S. Maple,
Hashim,
Popol Vuh,
Babytalk,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Faust,
Youth Brigade,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Colin Newman,
Sun Ra,
Talk Talk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Excepter,
The Five Americans,
The Barracudas,
Rod Modell,
Alphaville,
Nils Olav,
Magazine,
The Birthday Party,
The Star Department,
Todd Terry,
Ronnie Foster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mars,
Gang Green,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric B and Rakim,
Anakelly,
Roy Ayers,
Oblivians,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joy Division,
Henry Cow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eric Copeland,
Cameo,
The Human League,
Gil Scott Heron,
PIL,
Crash Course in Science,
Y Pants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cluster,
The Selecter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Move,
Jacques Brel,
Rapeman,
KRS-One,
Max Romeo,
The Angels of Light,
The New Christs,
cv313,
Slick Rick,
Charles Mingus,
Josef K,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.