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 Czech Republic and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ 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 Remains to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
Fugazi,
Deakin,
Dead Boys,
The Five Americans,
The Mojo Men,
Josef K,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boz Scaggs,
Cheater Slicks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Doors,
Pierre Henry,
Oneida,
Lungfish,
Con Funk Shun,
Minny Pops,
The Techniques,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cybotron,
Suburban Knight,
Joyce Sims,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eric Dolphy,
Al Stewart,
The Selecter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Niagra,
The Birthday Party,
Country Teasers,
Swans,
Lou Reed,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Alphaville,
PIL,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Talk Talk,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rapeman,
Man Eating Sloth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bluetip,
Prince Buster,
The Last Poets,
Spoonie Gee,
Angry Samoans,
Matthew Bourne,
Crooked Eye,
Radio Birdman,
The Saints,
The Knickerbockers,
Chris Corsano,
Barbara Tucker,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Blackbyrds,
Wire,
The Moleskins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
The Misunderstood,
Circle Jerks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.