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 Kosovo and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare 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 Derrick May to the disco 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Sherman,
Symarip,
Terry Callier,
Joe Finger,
Rosa Yemen,
Inner City,
The Pretty Things,
The Young Rascals,
The J.B.'s,
Tomorrow,
The Victims,
The Offenders,
Davy DMX,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gun Club,
The Slackers,
Tim Buckley,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Real Kids,
Radiohead,
The Seeds,
Black Sheep,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jacques Brel,
Sällskapet,
Soulsonic Force,
Supertramp,
Skarface,
Sarah Menescal,
the Swans,
DJ Sneak,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
Soft Cell,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hoover,
Parry Music,
Eric Copeland,
Index,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
ABBA,
L. Decosne,
Lindisfarne,
Adolescents,
Kenny Larkin,
Gang of Four,
Rapeman,
Urselle,
Silicon Teens,
Delta 5,
the Fania All-Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Barracudas,
Q and Not U,
Eden Ahbez,
Mars,
Jerry's Kids,
The Associates,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.