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 Bangladesh and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mr. Review to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Josef K,
PIL,
B.T. Express,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Electric Prunes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Slits,
Scion,
Nas,
The Dirtbombs,
Livin' Joy,
Roxy Music,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Metal Thangz,
Barbara Tucker,
Connie Case,
Make Up,
Negative Approach,
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Byrd,
China Crisis,
Idris Muhammad,
Ornette Coleman,
Babytalk,
Yaz,
Maurizio,
Sister Nancy,
Freddie Wadling,
Kaleidoscope,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
A Certain Ratio,
Quando Quango,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Juan Atkins,
The Barracudas,
Unwound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aloha Tigers,
Jawbox,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang Green,
The Human League,
Danielle Patucci,
Terrestrial Tones,
Harpers Bizarre,
June of 44,
Rod Modell,
The Birthday Party,
Bob Dylan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mo-Dettes,
Inner City,
Pere Ubu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Circle Jerks,
Donny Hathaway,
Rosa Yemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Durutti Column,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.