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 Burundi and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gastr Del Sol to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Stiv Bators,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scott Walker,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Adolescents,
Gichy Dan,
Procol Harum,
Mission of Burma,
Underground Resistance,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mojo Men,
Franke,
Liliput,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mo-Dettes,
Pole,
48th St. Collective,
FM Einheit,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dead C,
Soft Cell,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Womack,
June of 44,
Nik Kershaw,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cramps,
Danielle Patucci,
The Zeros,
Blancmange,
Negative Approach,
The Smoke,
Barbara Tucker,
Panda Bear,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
China Crisis,
Radio Birdman,
Frankie Knuckles,
The J.B.'s,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sugar Minott,
Laurel Aitken,
Don Cherry,
Jerry's Kids,
Unwound,
Nirvana,
U.S. Maple,
Shoche,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joy Division,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
ABC,
The Offenders,
Zero Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scientists,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faust,
Rakim,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.