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 Japan and from New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Das Ding,
Danielle Patucci,
New Age Steppers,
Sonic Youth,
Robert Wyatt,
The Slits,
Rod Modell,
Prince Buster,
Byron Stingily,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gap Band,
The Litter,
Warren Ellis,
Jeff Mills,
Dark Day,
Black Flag,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Misunderstood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Andrew Hill,
the Normal,
Minnie Riperton,
Liliput,
Arab on Radar,
FM Einheit,
Make Up,
Ken Boothe,
John Coltrane,
Lou Christie,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Real Kids,
Slave,
John Cale,
Rotary Connection,
DJ Style,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tom Boy,
The Evens,
The Electric Prunes,
The Golliwogs,
Aswad,
Wasted Youth,
Banda Bassotti,
Darondo,
JFA,
The Music Machine,
Negative Approach,
Eddi Front,
Circle Jerks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Carl Craig,
Royal Trux,
Gong,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.