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 Nicaragua and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Country Teasers to the techno 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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Throbbing Gristle,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Symarip,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hashim,
Echospace,
48th St. Collective,
Radiohead,
Charles Mingus,
Cameo,
the Slits,
Neu!,
Kerrie Biddell,
8 Eyed Spy,
Althea and Donna,
Drive Like Jehu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Görl,
Pantaleimon,
Crooked Eye,
Chris Corsano,
The Fall,
Yaz,
Tears for Fears,
Tom Boy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Royal Trux,
Make Up,
Erykah Badu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
The Last Poets,
Nas,
Scion,
John Foxx,
Lalo Schifrin,
In Retrospect,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Donny Hathaway,
The Sonics,
Schoolly D,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Danielle Patucci,
Scrapy,
Grauzone,
Steve Hackett,
DJ Sneak,
Arthur Verocai,
The Count Five,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sister Nancy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cramps,
Rufus Thomas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Aural Exciters,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.