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 Somalia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin 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 Jerry's Kids to the grime 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Amon Düül,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crime,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Durutti Column,
Lakeside,
Index,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barry Ungar,
Qualms,
Malaria!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Electric Prunes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Spoonie Gee,
Yellowson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eve St. Jones,
Harmonia,
The Evens,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
UT,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultra Naté,
Michelle Simonal,
Freddie Wadling,
Babytalk,
The Buckinghams,
Zero Boys,
Lou Christie,
Don Cherry,
Crooked Eye,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cure,
The Motions,
MDC,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dead Boys,
The Skatalites,
Wings,
Matthew Bourne,
The Red Krayola,
Cheater Slicks,
Interpol,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Techniques,
Little Man,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Dirtbombs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pantytec,
Procol Harum,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Excepter,
Young Marble Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Moon,
Eli Mardock,
Goldenarms,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.