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 Liechtenstein and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Eve St. Jones,
Japan,
the Bar-Kays,
Robert Hood,
Public Enemy,
Magma,
K-Klass,
Motorama,
Circle Jerks,
Radiohead,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Invisible,
Slave,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lindisfarne,
John Cale,
MC5,
Neil Young,
Deakin,
Jacques Brel,
These Immortal Souls,
Maurizio,
Lungfish,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Happenings,
the Swans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Q65,
Anakelly,
The Toasters,
Mo-Dettes,
PIL,
The Stooges,
Johnny Clarke,
Sparks,
Reuben Wilson,
Erasure,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dawn Penn,
Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Guru Guru,
Adolescents,
The Red Krayola,
Marine Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pulsallama,
48th St. Collective,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eurythmics,
Whodini,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aloha Tigers,
Brand Nubian,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fugazi,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.