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 Luxembourg and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Joy Division to the punk 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Byron Stingily,
Section 25,
Ultra Naté,
Johnny Osbourne,
Amon Düül II,
Frankie Knuckles,
Adolescents,
Underground Resistance,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kenny Larkin,
Lindisfarne,
Duran Duran,
Trumans Water,
Jeff Lynne,
The Remains,
cv313,
The Durutti Column,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sällskapet,
Josef K,
Joy Division,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ornette Coleman,
Negative Approach,
Arthur Verocai,
New Order,
MC5,
Hoover,
Man Eating Sloth,
Robert Wyatt,
The Moody Blues,
The Knickerbockers,
Malaria!,
Harmonia,
Stetsasonic,
Black Moon,
Siglo XX,
Youth Brigade,
Neil Young,
The Smoke,
the Slits,
The Victims,
David McCallum,
Barrington Levy,
Sparks,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Residents,
Lou Reed,
Mission of Burma,
The Trojans,
June Days,
Juan Atkins,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smiths,
Gerry Rafferty,
Niagra,
Monolake,
Surgeon,
Eric Dolphy,
Oneida,
Mars,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.