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 Turkmenistan and from Lille.
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 New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Robert Palmer 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 Sisters of Mercy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Spoonie Gee,
Gichy Dan,
Shoche,
Zapp,
David McCallum,
Ultra Naté,
Brick,
Rod Modell,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pussy Galore,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Freddie Wadling,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Leaves,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
These Immortal Souls,
Outsiders,
Eddi Front,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sex Pistols,
Bootsy Collins,
Surgeon,
Sister Nancy,
John Foxx,
Soft Cell,
Albert Ayler,
Alison Limerick,
Blossom Toes,
F. McDonald,
Interpol,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Moon,
Buzzcocks,
Mandrill,
The Move,
Dead Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
Laurel Aitken,
Mark Hollis,
Amon Düül II,
Maleditus Sound,
Robert Görl,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scott Walker,
Hot Snakes,
Althea and Donna,
MC5,
Sällskapet,
David Bowie,
Piero Umiliani,
Lyres,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.