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 Jamaica and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Electric Prunes to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Moon,
Unrelated Segments,
Amon Düül II,
The Busters,
Tres Demented,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joyce Sims,
The Buckinghams,
Rekid,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
The Mojo Men,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Subhumans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
U.S. Maple,
The Golliwogs,
The Offenders,
The Selecter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Durutti Column,
Talk Talk,
Spoonie Gee,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sixth Finger,
Khruangbin,
Warren Ellis,
Fat Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Soft Machine,
The New Christs,
June Days,
Severed Heads,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fort Wilson Riot,
These Immortal Souls,
Deepchord,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dead Boys,
The Vogues,
Radiohead,
The Move,
Oblivians,
Youth Brigade,
Parry Music,
T.S.O.L.,
Bronski Beat,
Black Flag,
Boredoms,
Grauzone,
Franke,
The Associates,
Harry Pussy,
Lalann,
Supertramp,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.