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 Saudi Arabia 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 Ossler to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Hasil Adkins,
Kerrie Biddell,
Michelle Simonal,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cecil Taylor,
Carl Craig,
Visage,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Bar-Kays,
The Walker Brothers,
X-102,
Soft Machine,
Davy DMX,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fortunes,
Josef K,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Goldenarms,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bizarre Inc.,
Television,
The Associates,
Nico,
Byron Stingily,
Scientists,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Parry Music,
Q and Not U,
K-Klass,
The Searchers,
Kaleidoscope,
Crooked Eye,
Alton Ellis,
Minor Threat,
The Gun Club,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Modern Lovers,
Clear Light,
Bill Near,
The Remains,
Henry Cow,
Main Source,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeff Mills,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Axelrod,
Nick Fraelich,
E-Dancer,
Buzzcocks,
Jawbox,
Lucky Dragons,
Nik Kershaw,
Tears for Fears,
Reagan Youth,
Alison Limerick,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.