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 Solomon Islands and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the grunge 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Public Image Ltd.,
Oblivians,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Beau Brummels,
Moss Icon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Detroit Cobras,
Das Ding,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Womack,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Sherman,
Absolute Body Control,
Simply Red,
Terry Callier,
Gang Gang Dance,
Camberwell Now,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Patti Smith,
The Evens,
Sister Nancy,
The J.B.'s,
A Certain Ratio,
Sällskapet,
Los Fastidios,
Faraquet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ohio Players,
Neil Young,
The Alarm Clocks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hashim,
MC5,
AZ,
The Techniques,
Reagan Youth,
Charles Mingus,
Tropical Tobacco,
Shoche,
Eddi Front,
Bad Manners,
Cameo,
Minutemen,
Outsiders,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soulsonic Force,
Procol Harum,
One Last Wish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Amon Düül II,
Skarface,
The Happenings,
The Young Rascals,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pylon,
Kenny Larkin,
Rapeman,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.