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 Burkina and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Susan Cadogan to the techno 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Magma,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
David Axelrod,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Parry Music,
Soul II Soul,
Grey Daturas,
Barrington Levy,
The Cowsills,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Five Americans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New York Dolls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
R.M.O.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Seeds,
The Gladiators,
Hardrive,
The Smiths,
Ken Boothe,
Gichy Dan,
Smog,
Young Marble Giants,
The Kinks,
Magazine,
Oneida,
Television,
The Beau Brummels,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camberwell Now,
Sällskapet,
New Order,
Tubeway Army,
Howard Jones,
Pussy Galore,
Ludus,
The Smoke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lucky Dragons,
The Misunderstood,
Isaac Hayes,
Todd Terry,
Pulsallama,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Morten Harket,
The Buckinghams,
The Moody Blues,
The Dirtbombs,
Livin' Joy,
Flash Fearless,
Glenn Branca,
Mantronix,
Mr. Review,
Harry Pussy,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.