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 Ivory Coast and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
The Last Poets,
Rod Modell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Holt,
The Divine Comedy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Unwound,
Toni Rubio,
Radio Birdman,
Icehouse,
Public Image Ltd.,
Half Japanese,
Surgeon,
Panda Bear,
Accadde A,
The Cure,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ornette Coleman,
the Soft Cell,
Warsaw,
Bad Manners,
the Association,
Max Romeo,
ABBA,
The Human League,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
EPMD,
Ultra Naté,
Lower 48,
The Invisible,
Bang On A Can,
Schoolly D,
Eric Dolphy,
The Gladiators,
Jeff Mills,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Piero Umiliani,
Excepter,
Hot Snakes,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Angry Samoans,
Goldenarms,
Electric Prunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Zero Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Scientists,
Dead Boys,
Albert Ayler,
The Fugs,
Todd Terry,
the Sonics,
The Zeros,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.