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 Liechtenstein and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro 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 Boz Scaggs to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Brand Nubian,
Eric B and Rakim,
Aaron Thompson,
D'Angelo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Residents,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Swans,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Lynne,
The Star Department,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Stooges,
Barbara Tucker,
The Grass Roots,
Delon & Dalcan,
Man Parrish,
JFA,
Boogie Down Productions,
Monolake,
Maurizio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pagans,
Eurythmics,
Oneida,
The Blues Magoos,
The Kinks,
Television Personalities,
X-102,
The Trojans,
Qualms,
Pere Ubu,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fuzztones,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Con Funk Shun,
Soulsonic Force,
F. McDonald,
Japan,
Laurel Aitken,
Flipper,
Fatback Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Kas Product,
The Saints,
Gerry Rafferty,
Reuben Wilson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Procol Harum,
Desert Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Average White Band,
Eden Ahbez,
The Blackbyrds,
Marshall Jefferson,
Circle Jerks,
UT,
Depeche Mode,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.