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 Guinea-Bissau and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Sound Behaviour,
John Cale,
Hashim,
One Last Wish,
Brick,
Ronnie Foster,
Joey Negro,
John Holt,
Gang Green,
Dark Day,
The Durutti Column,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Franke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mr. Review,
Radiopuhelimet,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Supertramp,
Mars,
The Motions,
Pole,
Boz Scaggs,
Marine Girls,
Lower 48,
The Saints,
Minor Threat,
Amon Düül II,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultra Naté,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Livin' Joy,
The Slackers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Popol Vuh,
Janne Schatter,
Zero Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Bill Wells,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Prince Buster,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blossom Toes,
Agitation Free,
The Fire Engines,
The Neon Judgement,
Drexciya,
Make Up,
Lou Reed,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pylon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Absolute Body Control,
Scratch Acid,
Delta 5,
the Slits,
Barbara Tucker,
June Days,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.