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 Haiti and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
The Dirtbombs,
John Lydon,
Andrew Hill,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Cell,
The Electric Prunes,
R.M.O.,
Black Pus,
Cymande,
Depeche Mode,
Quadrant,
Sam Rivers,
UT,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hardrive,
Tres Demented,
Loose Ends,
Harmonia,
Newcleus,
Eric Dolphy,
Althea and Donna,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Radio Birdman,
The Smiths,
The Invisible,
L. Decosne,
Danielle Patucci,
Howard Jones,
Parry Music,
Scion,
This Heat,
Susan Cadogan,
Deadbeat,
New York Dolls,
Byron Stingily,
Marine Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Glenn Branca,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fire Engines,
Television,
Swans,
Bob Dylan,
Fad Gadget,
Motorama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Funkadelic,
the Slits,
Tomorrow,
Godley & Creme,
Hasil Adkins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pussy Galore,
Skarface,
Gong,
Los Fastidios,
Gichy Dan,
Nick Fraelich,
Country Teasers,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.