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 Slovakia and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Star Department to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sex Pistols,
The Names,
Lalann,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Stiv Bators,
Can,
Kaleidoscope,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Los Fastidios,
Todd Rundgren,
Marmalade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Banda Bassotti,
Ronnie Foster,
Public Enemy,
Flipper,
A Certain Ratio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ludus,
Colin Newman,
Trumans Water,
The Monochrome Set,
Glambeats Corp.,
Popol Vuh,
Junior Murvin,
Royal Trux,
Faraquet,
The Last Poets,
The Happenings,
Pagans,
Groovy Waters,
Cheater Slicks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ossler,
Surgeon,
Don Cherry,
Dennis Brown,
Gong,
The Trojans,
The Red Krayola,
The Angels of Light,
Roger Hodgson,
The Raincoats,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pussy Galore,
The Gap Band,
The Star Department,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eddi Front,
Quando Quango,
Man Parrish,
The Electric Prunes,
Sparks,
Lou Christie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aural Exciters,
Tres Demented,
Hoover,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.