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 Andorra and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Panda Bear,
JFA,
Hashim,
The Neon Judgement,
Whodini,
Crooked Eye,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Soft Cell,
Intrusion,
Funky Four + One,
Massinfluence,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Erykah Badu,
Cal Tjader,
Minnie Riperton,
Swans,
Absolute Body Control,
Clear Light,
The Index,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Donny Hathaway,
E-Dancer,
Outsiders,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bill Wells,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Offenders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rekid,
Dawn Penn,
Newcleus,
Tres Demented,
Section 25,
Lebanon Hanover,
Carl Craig,
Janne Schatter,
Kerri Chandler,
Quantec,
Moby Grape,
Television Personalities,
Eddi Front,
X-102,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Slackers,
The Divine Comedy,
B.T. Express,
Kenny Larkin,
Angry Samoans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scion,
Desert Stars,
Supertramp,
Gong,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
This Heat,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.