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 South Africa and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Faust to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Radio Birdman,
Swans,
Agitation Free,
New Order,
Roy Ayers,
Franke,
Youth Brigade,
The American Breed,
The Cramps,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobby Sherman,
Sixth Finger,
Roger Hodgson,
EPMD,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ossler,
Adolescents,
Young Marble Giants,
David Bowie,
The Raincoats,
Pole,
Darondo,
Easy Going,
Howard Jones,
Japan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The United States of America,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blancmange,
Chris Corsano,
Godley & Creme,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Con Funk Shun,
Jeff Lynne,
The Names,
Cymande,
Sugar Minott,
Boredoms,
Dead Boys,
Toni Rubio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Graham Central Station,
Derrick Morgan,
Nirvana,
Todd Rundgren,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lou Reed,
The Count Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pierre Henry,
Deepchord,
ABC,
B.T. Express,
Depeche Mode,
Magma,
Malaria!,
Reagan Youth,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.