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 Uruguay and from Beijing.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The United States of America to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
MDC,
Kayak,
Harry Pussy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Can,
Amon Düül,
The Neon Judgement,
Carl Craig,
Letta Mbulu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tommy Roe,
La Düsseldorf,
Magma,
Mars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Make Up,
The Gun Club,
Kas Product,
Davy DMX,
Easy Going,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Q65,
Lyres,
Jerry's Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Alice Coltrane,
Al Stewart,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gladiators,
Mantronix,
James White and The Blacks,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Suburban Knight,
The Durutti Column,
Joey Negro,
Wally Richardson,
The Martian,
Curtis Mayfield,
Massinfluence,
Arthur Verocai,
Don Cherry,
Model 500,
Scrapy,
Basic Channel,
Maurizio,
Barbara Tucker,
Hasil Adkins,
Y Pants,
The Dead C,
Liliput,
John Holt,
Jeff Lynne,
Blake Baxter,
Hot Snakes,
Surgeon,
Shoche,
Bobby Womack,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.