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 South Sudan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the rap 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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Trumans Water,
Tubeway Army,
Rod Modell,
The Invisible,
Ten City,
Popol Vuh,
Parry Music,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nirvana,
The Smoke,
Joey Negro,
Rhythm & Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
Average White Band,
Deepchord,
Ohio Players,
The Remains,
Scion,
Johnny Clarke,
The Star Department,
The Mojo Men,
PIL,
Erykah Badu,
B.T. Express,
Silicon Teens,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gregory Isaacs,
Slick Rick,
Minnie Riperton,
Nation of Ulysses,
Khruangbin,
Donny Hathaway,
Aloha Tigers,
Mission of Burma,
The Misunderstood,
Boogie Down Productions,
L. Decosne,
Rites of Spring,
Iggy Pop,
Monolake,
Thee Headcoats,
the Soft Cell,
June Days,
Don Cherry,
Blossom Toes,
Zapp,
The Toasters,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Reagan Youth,
the Association,
Cybotron,
Stereo Dub,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crash Course in Science,
Mad Mike,
The Barracudas,
Nico,
R.M.O.,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultravox,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.