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 Kuwait and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Soulsonic Force to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pole,
Q and Not U,
The Skatalites,
Gregory Isaacs,
Japan,
Alton Ellis,
Eric Copeland,
Howard Jones,
B.T. Express,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Womack,
Quadrant,
The Litter,
Aaron Thompson,
The Beau Brummels,
Ituana,
Sixth Finger,
Eve St. Jones,
Eli Mardock,
Wolf Eyes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kerri Chandler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
This Heat,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxette,
Tom Boy,
The Seeds,
The Gun Club,
The Alarm Clocks,
Porter Ricks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Shoche,
Alphaville,
The United States of America,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mo-Dettes,
Thee Headcoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultimate Spinach,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Germs,
Susan Cadogan,
MDC,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Minny Pops,
The Human League,
The Blues Magoos,
Scan 7,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Association,
Thompson Twins,
Whodini,
Stiv Bators,
Delon & Dalcan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.