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 Ethiopia and from Tokyo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 PIL to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
David Bowie,
Outsiders,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eric Dolphy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yaz,
H. Thieme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kayak,
the Sonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joey Negro,
Blake Baxter,
Supertramp,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Laurel Aitken,
Faraquet,
Neu!,
Sällskapet,
Dead Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
ABC,
Roy Ayers,
Tim Buckley,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
June of 44,
D'Angelo,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Christie,
F. McDonald,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rapeman,
E-Dancer,
Bad Manners,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lightning Bolt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Matthew Halsall,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cure,
The Golliwogs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hot Snakes,
Pole,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soft Machine,
Heaven 17,
Isaac Hayes,
Scion,
Wire,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Evens,
Stereo Dub,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ronnie Foster,
Fad Gadget,
Matthew Bourne,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.