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 Mozambique and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 David Bowie 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 Kevin Saunderson to the crunk 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Eden Ahbez,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mr. Review,
Dave Gahan,
ABBA,
The Five Americans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Technova,
Rites of Spring,
The Stooges,
Harpers Bizarre,
Young Marble Giants,
10cc,
The Moleskins,
Surgeon,
Scientists,
Terry Callier,
The Real Kids,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nirvana,
Skarface,
Nick Fraelich,
Swell Maps,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Sherman,
Wolf Eyes,
The Zeros,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jawbox,
Hot Snakes,
Spandau Ballet,
The Invisible,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Deadbeat,
Newcleus,
Procol Harum,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Maurizio,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jacob Miller,
Gang Green,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wasted Youth,
Roxette,
The Golliwogs,
Can,
The Birthday Party,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Qualms,
Boredoms,
Blancmange,
Sällskapet,
The Doors,
Popol Vuh,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.