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 Singapore and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Funkadelic to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
CMW,
Metal Thangz,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barrington Levy,
Hasil Adkins,
Index,
The Selecter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Parry Music,
Dawn Penn,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fear,
Easy Going,
Harpers Bizarre,
T. Rex,
JFA,
June of 44,
Make Up,
Warsaw,
John Foxx,
Amazonics,
Pussy Galore,
The Real Kids,
Simply Red,
Tubeway Army,
Marmalade,
Mantronix,
Erasure,
Rufus Thomas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bizarre Inc.,
Arthur Verocai,
Fela Kuti,
Boz Scaggs,
Soul II Soul,
the Germs,
Yusef Lateef,
Qualms,
Joyce Sims,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deakin,
Alton Ellis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fugs,
Eli Mardock,
Sonic Youth,
Drexciya,
Guru Guru,
Joensuu 1685,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Country Teasers,
Trumans Water,
The Durutti Column,
Iggy Pop,
Laurel Aitken,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.