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 Belarus and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Marc Almond to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Judy Mowatt,
Moby Grape,
Motorama,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David Axelrod,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Happenings,
The New Christs,
FM Einheit,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pylon,
Echospace,
Derrick Morgan,
Duran Duran,
Joe Finger,
Organ,
Icehouse,
Interpol,
Iggy Pop,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jacques Brel,
Nico,
The Kinks,
The Leaves,
KRS-One,
Bill Wells,
Radio Birdman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stiv Bators,
Bronski Beat,
The Flesh Eaters,
Animal Collective,
Flipper,
Brand Nubian,
Supertramp,
Todd Terry,
Camberwell Now,
Soft Cell,
Idris Muhammad,
Faraquet,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Faust,
James White and The Blacks,
Pantytec,
Young Marble Giants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Man Eating Sloth,
Country Teasers,
Smog,
David Bowie,
Jacob Miller,
Kerri Chandler,
Nirvana,
X-101,
Lebanon Hanover,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.