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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the rock 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Soft Cell,
H. Thieme,
Can,
Unwound,
The Doors,
The Misunderstood,
Bob Dylan,
MDC,
The Stooges,
The Young Rascals,
Sam Rivers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stetsasonic,
The Red Krayola,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nas,
The Selecter,
D'Angelo,
Jimmy McGriff,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Robert Hood,
Tom Boy,
Depeche Mode,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harpers Bizarre,
Chris Corsano,
The Techniques,
Hoover,
Babytalk,
Dave Gahan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lalo Schifrin,
8 Eyed Spy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Yellowson,
In Retrospect,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Mummies,
The Gun Club,
Man Eating Sloth,
Underground Resistance,
Bobby Sherman,
Gastr Del Sol,
Skarface,
James White and The Blacks,
Lakeside,
Hashim,
Intrusion,
Althea and Donna,
Laurel Aitken,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Shoche,
OOIOO,
Letta Mbulu,
Eurythmics,
Sparks,
Yaz,
Radiohead,
Vainqueur,
The Slackers,
John Cale,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.