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 Bangladesh and from New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Magazine to the techno 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Schoolly D,
The Searchers,
Ornette Coleman,
The Move,
Los Fastidios,
The Martian,
kango's stein massive,
The Fuzztones,
Interpol,
Harpers Bizarre,
Symarip,
Kerri Chandler,
Byron Stingily,
Cybotron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
E-Dancer,
Goldenarms,
Subhumans,
Minnie Riperton,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Stooges,
Parry Music,
Tubeway Army,
Tim Buckley,
Ultimate Spinach,
Arab on Radar,
Nik Kershaw,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bob Dylan,
The Birthday Party,
Lalann,
The Sound,
Ken Boothe,
Can,
Fad Gadget,
48th St. Collective,
The Real Kids,
Black Flag,
Magma,
The Victims,
The Skatalites,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Technova,
Swell Maps,
The Saints,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Five Americans,
Gang Starr,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Normal,
Quando Quango,
The Alarm Clocks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Television Personalities,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rapeman,
Soft Machine,
The Techniques,
Electric Prunes,
Joe Finger,
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.