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 Sweden and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Masters at Work,
Albert Ayler,
Arab on Radar,
Black Pus,
Minutemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed,
U.S. Maple,
Visage,
The Pretty Things,
UT,
Amon Düül,
The Invisible,
Isaac Hayes,
John Cale,
Donald Byrd,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Heaven 17,
Negative Approach,
June of 44,
The Star Department,
Nation of Ulysses,
Smog,
Josef K,
Barrington Levy,
The Count Five,
the Normal,
The Names,
Davy DMX,
Interpol,
The Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Aswad,
Dead Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
Henry Cow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DNA,
Skaos,
Cheater Slicks,
Wings,
Althea and Donna,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sonic Youth,
Second Layer,
The Techniques,
The Leaves,
Excepter,
Scott Walker,
Unwound,
Maurizio,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jeff Lynne,
Ponytail,
James White and The Blacks,
T. Rex,
This Heat,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.