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 Lithuania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Raincoats to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
L. Decosne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Negative Approach,
Kerri Chandler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cure,
The Slackers,
Alton Ellis,
Nirvana,
Niagra,
Spandau Ballet,
The American Breed,
Alphaville,
Simply Red,
Sight & Sound,
Khruangbin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Amon Düül,
Gang Green,
Rosa Yemen,
Visage,
The Sound,
D'Angelo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Litter,
Soul II Soul,
The Misunderstood,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fortunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rufus Thomas,
Ronan,
The Martian,
Steve Hackett,
The Move,
The Fall,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Das Ding,
Kas Product,
Q65,
The New Christs,
Wings,
Harmonia,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Swell Maps,
The Victims,
Ornette Coleman,
The Black Dice,
The Mojo Men,
Easy Going,
Massinfluence,
The Birthday Party,
Fugazi,
Average White Band,
Angry Samoans,
Dark Day,
The Fuzztones,
Symarip,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.