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 Kazakhstan and from London.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Barracudas to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Danielle Patucci,
Hot Snakes,
Eve St. Jones,
Easy Going,
Second Layer,
Arthur Verocai,
Mary Jane Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Pretty Things,
The Searchers,
Robert Hood,
DJ Sneak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arab on Radar,
Blake Baxter,
The United States of America,
Joy Division,
DNA,
Marc Almond,
The Fugs,
The Offenders,
Hoover,
Gong,
Spoonie Gee,
Accadde A,
Bill Near,
L. Decosne,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sixth Finger,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sam Rivers,
Amon Düül II,
Livin' Joy,
Oneida,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bob Dylan,
The Misunderstood,
Lightning Bolt,
Wally Richardson,
Delta 5,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Wyatt,
The Busters,
New York Dolls,
Blancmange,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Niagra,
Alton Ellis,
Liliput,
Bizarre Inc.,
U.S. Maple,
Brass Construction,
The Cramps,
Ultra Naté,
The Golliwogs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Piero Umiliani,
Tomorrow,
The Gun Club,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.