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 Moldova and from New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Oneida to the crunk 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Susan Cadogan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cowsills,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Laurel Aitken,
Cybotron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fat Boys,
Morten Harket,
Banda Bassotti,
Joyce Sims,
Shoche,
Duran Duran,
Roxette,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris & Cosey,
Letta Mbulu,
Icehouse,
Black Sheep,
Angry Samoans,
Heaven 17,
the Swans,
The Toasters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yellowson,
Darondo,
The Gladiators,
Kenny Larkin,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Isaac Hayes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Suicide,
Roger Hodgson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bush Tetras,
Zero Boys,
Bad Manners,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sound,
Neu!,
Pantytec,
Roy Ayers,
Warren Ellis,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Zapp,
Joensuu 1685,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mandrill,
Skaos,
Albert Ayler,
Accadde A,
Robert Görl,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Holt,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Litter,
Ten City,
The Evens,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.