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 Macedonia and from New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bang On A Can to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Siglo XX,
A Certain Ratio,
Susan Cadogan,
Kenny Larkin,
Eddi Front,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cheater Slicks,
EPMD,
The Walker Brothers,
Sonic Youth,
Spoonie Gee,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Lydon,
Suburban Knight,
Tubeway Army,
Interpol,
This Heat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lungfish,
The Smiths,
Youth Brigade,
Arcadia,
David Bowie,
The Gladiators,
The Happenings,
Bob Dylan,
Glenn Branca,
Davy DMX,
Intrusion,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ice-T,
Don Cherry,
The Skatalites,
Maurizio,
Hoover,
Sound Behaviour,
the Soft Cell,
The Birthday Party,
the Normal,
Joy Division,
Charles Mingus,
F. McDonald,
Motorama,
Marcia Griffiths,
KRS-One,
Amon Düül,
Arthur Verocai,
The Residents,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Black Sheep,
Kurtis Blow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fire Engines,
the Sonics,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.