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 Libya and from Salvador.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe 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 Eric B and Rakim to the techno 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Chris & Cosey,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
R.M.O.,
Godley & Creme,
Duran Duran,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Reagan Youth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Procol Harum,
Saccharine Trust,
K-Klass,
Con Funk Shun,
Marcia Griffiths,
Byron Stingily,
Josef K,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
DJ Sneak,
8 Eyed Spy,
DJ Style,
Blake Baxter,
U.S. Maple,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Flipper,
Circle Jerks,
Outsiders,
Mars,
The Gap Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Franke,
The New Christs,
Sixth Finger,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Mills,
Cameo,
June of 44,
Max Romeo,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Sonics,
Skarface,
Ituana,
Scan 7,
The Real Kids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Matthew Bourne,
Alton Ellis,
The Cure,
Swell Maps,
The Stooges,
Motorama,
Sun Ra,
The Remains,
Unwound,
The Buckinghams,
Yazoo,
Graham Central Station,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lakeside,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.