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 Cambodia and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Procol Harum to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Tommy Roe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bob Dylan,
Barry Ungar,
Visage,
Alphaville,
The Litter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Stetsasonic,
Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dual Sessions,
June of 44,
Rufus Thomas,
New Order,
The Standells,
Sonny Sharrock,
Donny Hathaway,
Dave Gahan,
Deakin,
Skarface,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ken Boothe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Faust,
Pylon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Faraquet,
Magazine,
The Modern Lovers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Josef K,
Buzzcocks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terry Callier,
The Residents,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bill Wells,
Aural Exciters,
Crime,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fugazi,
Sixth Finger,
Das Ding,
Althea and Donna,
Matthew Bourne,
Mandrill,
Franke,
The Birthday Party,
Surgeon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Organ,
Babytalk,
DJ Sneak,
Soft Cell,
Circle Jerks,
Sugar Minott,
The Names,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.