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 Burkina and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Robert Görl to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Reuben Wilson,
The Raincoats,
Kurtis Blow,
Moebius,
The Gun Club,
The Sound,
kango's stein massive,
Deakin,
A Certain Ratio,
Scion,
Rites of Spring,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Electric Prunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Hardrive,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Blues Magoos,
The Techniques,
June Days,
The United States of America,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
EPMD,
The Young Rascals,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marshall Jefferson,
This Heat,
Country Teasers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Make Up,
The Litter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Monks,
Godley & Creme,
Bootsy Collins,
D'Angelo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Qualms,
Althea and Donna,
Rufus Thomas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DJ Sneak,
Procol Harum,
Thompson Twins,
Surgeon,
Accadde A,
Ronan,
Bang On A Can,
New York Dolls,
Severed Heads,
Grey Daturas,
The Last Poets,
Quantec,
Mandrill,
The Zeros,
The Searchers,
Marvin Gaye,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dead C,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.