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 Uruguay and from Jakarta.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Quantec to the grime 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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Robert Hood,
the Bar-Kays,
Tres Demented,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sixth Finger,
The Music Machine,
Radiopuhelimet,
Youth Brigade,
Mad Mike,
Visage,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hashim,
Rod Modell,
Siglo XX,
Chris & Cosey,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Birthday Party,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
La Düsseldorf,
Kaleidoscope,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crime,
Jerry's Kids,
Deepchord,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Slick Rick,
Letta Mbulu,
Fela Kuti,
Bootsy Collins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Al Stewart,
the Slits,
The Offenders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Golliwogs,
DJ Style,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wasted Youth,
Mantronix,
Colin Newman,
Chris Corsano,
Terry Callier,
Faust,
The Fuzztones,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Henry Cow,
Thompson Twins,
Simply Red,
The United States of America,
Boogie Down Productions,
Spandau Ballet,
Mission of Burma,
The Vogues,
Idris Muhammad,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.