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 Australia and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Trumans Water to the grunge 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Accadde A,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Terry Callier,
Sällskapet,
The Fire Engines,
Pulsallama,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joey Negro,
The Trojans,
Boz Scaggs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agitation Free,
Marc Almond,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dead C,
Cybotron,
Black Flag,
Oblivians,
Warsaw,
The Star Department,
Livin' Joy,
MDC,
Quadrant,
The Dirtbombs,
Funkadelic,
Soulsonic Force,
Moby Grape,
Sex Pistols,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oneida,
The Birthday Party,
Gang of Four,
Little Man,
Rosa Yemen,
Girls At Our Best!,
Con Funk Shun,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wolf Eyes,
Fad Gadget,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Count Five,
Fat Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Amon Düül,
Metal Thangz,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lalann,
Cameo,
Hot Snakes,
Colin Newman,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
Laurel Aitken,
Can,
Flipper,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marine Girls,
The Names,
The Slackers,
Black Sheep,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.