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 Chad and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Motions to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
The Slits,
Roxette,
The American Breed,
X-102,
Rapeman,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
La Düsseldorf,
Jacques Brel,
Eddi Front,
Tom Boy,
New Age Steppers,
The Names,
Maurizio,
Main Source,
The Tremeloes,
Unwound,
Mars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Kinks,
DNA,
The Selecter,
Clear Light,
10cc,
Neil Young,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Sound,
EPMD,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Echospace,
Slick Rick,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Holt,
The Barracudas,
The Durutti Column,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Theoretical Girls,
Severed Heads,
the Slits,
Don Cherry,
Roy Ayers,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dirtbombs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pierre Henry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bush Tetras,
Black Moon,
Howard Jones,
Cecil Taylor,
Marc Almond,
Kas Product,
Public Enemy,
Ponytail,
Can,
K-Klass,
Andrew Hill,
Adolescents,
Bang On A Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brothers Johnson,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.