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 Benin and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Normal to the punk 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
The Martian,
Terry Callier,
48th St. Collective,
Arthur Verocai,
The Motions,
The Kinks,
F. McDonald,
The Busters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Depeche Mode,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Junior Murvin,
The Smiths,
Supertramp,
Rosa Yemen,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Theoretical Girls,
Ossler,
Graham Central Station,
Prince Buster,
Wire,
The Fortunes,
Eric Dolphy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Connie Case,
Motorama,
Ituana,
Public Enemy,
Tom Boy,
Scan 7,
Rod Modell,
Adolescents,
Max Romeo,
the Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
Minor Threat,
Barry Ungar,
Johnny Osbourne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Pylon,
Cluster,
Average White Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Delta 5,
John Cale,
Buzzcocks,
Joey Negro,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chris Corsano,
Public Image Ltd.,
Maurizio,
Avey Tare,
The Buckinghams,
The Victims,
ABC,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.