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 Dominican Republic and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Sun City Girls to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alton Ellis,
Joyce Sims,
Oneida,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fatback Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
R.M.O.,
Angry Samoans,
The Young Rascals,
Rakim,
Blake Baxter,
Echospace,
Boz Scaggs,
Malaria!,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James White and The Blacks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swans,
Kurtis Blow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Erasure,
Bauhaus,
EPMD,
Rufus Thomas,
Eden Ahbez,
the Association,
Flipper,
Mars,
Nik Kershaw,
The Slits,
Terry Callier,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Agent Orange,
Dorothy Ashby,
Infiniti,
Scan 7,
The Sound,
X-102,
New Order,
Robert Wyatt,
The Mummies,
Kaleidoscope,
Nick Fraelich,
The Dead C,
Theoretical Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Buzzcocks,
The Cure,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hardrive,
John Holt,
Warren Ellis,
CMW,
Roger Hodgson,
UT,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.