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 Dominican Republic and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sällskapet to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Donald Byrd,
Henry Cow,
Marmalade,
Popol Vuh,
the Soft Cell,
Technova,
Matthew Halsall,
Davy DMX,
Spoonie Gee,
John Foxx,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Supertramp,
Tom Boy,
Panda Bear,
Excepter,
Subhumans,
Freddie Wadling,
48th St. Collective,
Jeff Mills,
Kaleidoscope,
Eli Mardock,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ituana,
Oblivians,
Minny Pops,
Suicide,
Kayak,
The Searchers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Robert Hood,
Cheater Slicks,
Duran Duran,
Todd Rundgren,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Christie,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Patti Smith,
Rapeman,
Smog,
Siglo XX,
Amon Düül II,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Depeche Mode,
Alison Limerick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Vladislav Delay,
The Misunderstood,
LL Cool J,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jerry's Kids,
Main Source,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Angry Samoans,
Gichy Dan,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.