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 Swaziland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet 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 Hoover to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
The Wake,
Black Sheep,
Underground Resistance,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Magma,
Quadrant,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fugazi,
Chris & Cosey,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ultra Naté,
Erasure,
Skriet,
Sixth Finger,
Robert Hood,
The Gladiators,
Andrew Hill,
Malaria!,
The Vogues,
Neu!,
Clear Light,
Nirvana,
The Names,
Deakin,
Aaron Thompson,
AZ,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ossler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Slits,
Patti Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Sight & Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Selecter,
Procol Harum,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ohio Players,
The Happenings,
Laurel Aitken,
Dawn Penn,
Babytalk,
KRS-One,
Funkadelic,
Eden Ahbez,
Lebanon Hanover,
Barbara Tucker,
The Blues Magoos,
Animal Collective,
Wings,
The Human League,
Mad Mike,
Urselle,
La Düsseldorf,
The Monochrome Set,
Quando Quango,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.