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 Senegal and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 David McCallum to the funk 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Chrome,
The Angels of Light,
The Velvet Underground,
Blake Baxter,
Section 25,
Urselle,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yazoo,
the Association,
Nils Olav,
Spandau Ballet,
The Smoke,
The Selecter,
Index,
The Offenders,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dark Day,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
LL Cool J,
Schoolly D,
Bluetip,
Saccharine Trust,
Suicide,
Brothers Johnson,
The Pop Group,
The Standells,
Minnie Riperton,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deakin,
Cybotron,
Jacques Brel,
Nick Fraelich,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Symarip,
The Trojans,
Wire,
Matthew Bourne,
Ronan,
Technova,
Slick Rick,
Pet Shop Boys,
a-ha,
The Moody Blues,
Intrusion,
10cc,
Roxy Music,
Joe Smooth,
John Lydon,
Robert Hood,
Siglo XX,
Barbara Tucker,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxette,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crooked Eye,
Zero Boys,
Black Moon,
Ludus,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.