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 Pakistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Section 25 to the electroclash 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Lungfish,
Nick Fraelich,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Blake Baxter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Parry Music,
Underground Resistance,
Grey Daturas,
The Fire Engines,
MDC,
Pagans,
World's Most,
Wire,
Slick Rick,
The Durutti Column,
Black Sheep,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Los Fastidios,
Cluster,
Second Layer,
OOIOO,
The Invisible,
Country Teasers,
Basic Channel,
Patti Smith,
Barrington Levy,
Faraquet,
Young Marble Giants,
Rufus Thomas,
Bush Tetras,
Donald Byrd,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skriet,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Hood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harpers Bizarre,
China Crisis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter and Kerry,
Theoretical Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Maleditus Sound,
Liliput,
Anakelly,
Stereo Dub,
The Blues Magoos,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sonic Youth,
Kerri Chandler,
kango's stein massive,
Pere Ubu,
Q and Not U,
Icehouse,
The Blackbyrds,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.