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 Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Alarm Clocks to the dance 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Grey Daturas,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Faraquet,
Ronnie Foster,
Dead Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slits,
Absolute Body Control,
Marc Almond,
Rakim,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Lydon,
Tubeway Army,
Lakeside,
Josef K,
Pole,
Albert Ayler,
Marmalade,
Radiohead,
Surgeon,
Fat Boys,
The Fuzztones,
The Pop Group,
Desert Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Raincoats,
Hardrive,
Alison Limerick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Animal Collective,
Tears for Fears,
Glambeats Corp.,
Section 25,
Circle Jerks,
Skriet,
Simply Red,
Bauhaus,
Nas,
Infiniti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
PIL,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minutemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Au Pairs,
Outsiders,
Dual Sessions,
Hashim,
Soft Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Neil Young,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DJ Style,
Slave,
Maurizio,
The Remains,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sixth Finger,
The Martian,
The Music Machine,
Lungfish,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.