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 Zimbabwe and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Slackers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Harmonia,
Technova,
The Monochrome Set,
Skaos,
T. Rex,
AZ,
Brand Nubian,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bronski Beat,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Easy Going,
John Cale,
Laurel Aitken,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Robert Wyatt,
Guru Guru,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Unrelated Segments,
The Trojans,
Faraquet,
Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Youth Brigade,
Agent Orange,
Fear,
the Normal,
Tubeway Army,
Silicon Teens,
Joyce Sims,
Peter and Kerry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Letta Mbulu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Juan Atkins,
Lungfish,
Colin Newman,
the Slits,
Godley & Creme,
Hashim,
Ken Boothe,
Barry Ungar,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
James White and The Blacks,
Janne Schatter,
The Evens,
Outsiders,
Television Personalities,
Adolescents,
Slick Rick,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bauhaus,
Derrick Morgan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Dirtbombs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Delta 5,
Minutemen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.