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 San Marino and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 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 Detroit Cobras 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Amon Düül II,
The Pop Group,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Sonics,
Massinfluence,
Country Joe & The Fish,
David Bowie,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soft Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
ABC,
Mandrill,
Byron Stingily,
Pagans,
Scrapy,
The Smiths,
Black Bananas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scott Walker,
The Victims,
Dual Sessions,
The Monks,
Juan Atkins,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Almond,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sound Behaviour,
Scan 7,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Raincoats,
Sonic Youth,
Porter Ricks,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Pretty Things,
The Vogues,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Seeds,
E-Dancer,
Amazonics,
Jerry's Kids,
Desert Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Clear Light,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeff Mills,
Angry Samoans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Urselle,
Outsiders,
Liliput,
Little Man,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rapeman,
The Tremeloes,
The Moody Blues,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.