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 Vietnam and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Aural Exciters to the jazz 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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Vogues,
Byron Stingily,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wings,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Enemy,
Ken Boothe,
LL Cool J,
The Dead C,
Sight & Sound,
Mandrill,
Althea and Donna,
Flash Fearless,
Angry Samoans,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Busters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Move,
R.M.O.,
Das Ding,
Joe Finger,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Smoke,
Peter and Kerry,
Minny Pops,
Groovy Waters,
The Music Machine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Desert Stars,
Pet Shop Boys,
Frankie Knuckles,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Black Dice,
Porter Ricks,
Organ,
the Fania All-Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Evens,
La Düsseldorf,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Livin' Joy,
Symarip,
Spandau Ballet,
Howard Jones,
Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Darondo,
Cheater Slicks,
Neu!,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fire Engines,
Brand Nubian,
Excepter,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.