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 Russia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fire Engines to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Slick Rick,
Cybotron,
Connie Case,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kas Product,
Malaria!,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ohio Players,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Shadows of Knight,
Camberwell Now,
Pierre Henry,
Nation of Ulysses,
T.S.O.L.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Shuggie Otis,
Flipper,
U.S. Maple,
AZ,
John Foxx,
Black Flag,
The Barracudas,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Pretty Things,
Funkadelic,
Hot Snakes,
Depeche Mode,
Leonard Cohen,
Kerri Chandler,
Qualms,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Massinfluence,
Panda Bear,
H. Thieme,
Lou Christie,
Second Layer,
Barbara Tucker,
Roxette,
The Searchers,
Technova,
Bill Wells,
Silicon Teens,
John Lydon,
The Fall,
The Residents,
10cc,
Quantec,
Q65,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bush Tetras,
Index,
Fugazi,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Simply Red,
Iggy Pop,
The Black Dice,
Surgeon,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.