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 Croatia and from Spokane.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Star Department to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
the Normal,
Audionom,
Moss Icon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed,
Scientists,
Crispian St. Peters,
Anthony Braxton,
Crime,
The Martian,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scan 7,
Tomorrow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Neu!,
Dual Sessions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Suicide,
The Gun Club,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cluster,
Lindisfarne,
Albert Ayler,
Sugar Minott,
The Victims,
Ludus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Average White Band,
Motorama,
Donald Byrd,
Ice-T,
Jacob Miller,
Stereo Dub,
Magazine,
L. Decosne,
The Searchers,
The Names,
Graham Central Station,
The Moleskins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Agitation Free,
Eve St. Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
New York Dolls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Fraelich,
China Crisis,
Bronski Beat,
The Divine Comedy,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.