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 Solomon Islands and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Faust to the rap 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
The Moody Blues,
Derrick May,
a-ha,
Gang Starr,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Neon Judgement,
Yaz,
Lindisfarne,
Malaria!,
Tubeway Army,
Zero Boys,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
ABBA,
The Litter,
The Names,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oneida,
Surgeon,
Skarface,
Soft Machine,
Warsaw,
Public Image Ltd.,
Los Fastidios,
The Index,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harmonia,
Sam Rivers,
The Searchers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zapp,
Anakelly,
Dave Gahan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gong,
Thee Headcoats,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
R.M.O.,
LL Cool J,
John Cale,
Wasted Youth,
A Certain Ratio,
Sandy B,
Yusef Lateef,
Rites of Spring,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rakim,
Matthew Bourne,
Angry Samoans,
Vainqueur,
the Soft Cell,
Glenn Branca,
Althea and Donna,
Eric B and Rakim,
Von Mondo,
Alphaville,
48th St. Collective,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.