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 Comoros and from Shanghai.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rekid to the punk 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
The Standells,
Marc Almond,
Scion,
the Soft Cell,
The Count Five,
Nirvana,
Heaven 17,
Matthew Bourne,
Qualms,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cluster,
The Invisible,
Scientists,
Chris Corsano,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
David McCallum,
Terry Callier,
Scrapy,
Joey Negro,
Don Cherry,
Goldenarms,
The Divine Comedy,
Joyce Sims,
The Slits,
The Gun Club,
The Cowsills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bluetip,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arcadia,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Stetsasonic,
Blossom Toes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hoover,
Intrusion,
The Remains,
Roxy Music,
Aaron Thompson,
Ice-T,
Ituana,
Dual Sessions,
Danielle Patucci,
World's Most,
Depeche Mode,
Charles Mingus,
Al Stewart,
Brick,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Byrd,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roger Hodgson,
John Holt,
Grey Daturas,
John Lydon,
Faust,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.