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 Mozambique and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gun Club to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Morten Harket,
Gang of Four,
Sparks,
The Happenings,
Gastr Del Sol,
June of 44,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eve St. Jones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Hasil Adkins,
The Evens,
Flash Fearless,
Ludus,
Lungfish,
The Selecter,
The Toasters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Michelle Simonal,
Quantec,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pulsallama,
Yaz,
A Certain Ratio,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smiths,
Ornette Coleman,
Delta 5,
The Searchers,
Sight & Sound,
Second Layer,
The Last Poets,
Bill Near,
Symarip,
The Monks,
Loose Ends,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wings,
a-ha,
Wally Richardson,
Stereo Dub,
Mo-Dettes,
Jawbox,
Bush Tetras,
Moss Icon,
The Slackers,
Quadrant,
New York Dolls,
This Heat,
Kenny Larkin,
Technova,
Can,
Pere Ubu,
Nirvana,
The Move,
Crooked Eye,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Black Dice,
Jacques Brel,
Stiv Bators,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.