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 Italy and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Lee Hazlewood to the rap 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Donald Byrd,
Rekid,
Stiv Bators,
June Days,
Metal Thangz,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quando Quango,
Sister Nancy,
The Associates,
Popol Vuh,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Smog,
The Wake,
Marvin Gaye,
Freddie Wadling,
Scion,
KRS-One,
K-Klass,
The Techniques,
Laurel Aitken,
Aaron Thompson,
Scrapy,
Vladislav Delay,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Stooges,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric Dolphy,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dave Gahan,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fall,
Connie Case,
Outsiders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Drexciya,
Lebanon Hanover,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mad Mike,
Desert Stars,
H. Thieme,
JFA,
Kool Moe Dee,
Goldenarms,
the Sonics,
Crispian St. Peters,
Godley & Creme,
Soft Cell,
Audionom,
Make Up,
Negative Approach,
48th St. Collective,
Gregory Isaacs,
Excepter,
the Normal,
Blancmange,
Banda Bassotti,
Robert Görl,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.