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 Comoros and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Echospace to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Kinks,
Marine Girls,
the Human League,
Severed Heads,
Essential Logic,
Stiv Bators,
Kool Moe Dee,
Chris & Cosey,
The Vogues,
Desert Stars,
Niagra,
Mandrill,
The Dead C,
LL Cool J,
Average White Band,
Cybotron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Hill,
Radiohead,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultravox,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Patti Smith,
Unrelated Segments,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Matthew Bourne,
The Buckinghams,
Eddi Front,
These Immortal Souls,
Arcadia,
The Offenders,
Animal Collective,
The Moody Blues,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sun Ra,
Suicide,
Liliput,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang Starr,
The Misunderstood,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Anakelly,
Kas Product,
The Barracudas,
Suburban Knight,
Procol Harum,
Mo-Dettes,
Porter Ricks,
The Young Rascals,
The New Christs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.