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 Canada and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Rufus Thomas,
Cybotron,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Foxx,
Boredoms,
Skarface,
Rod Modell,
Isaac Hayes,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
H. Thieme,
Wolf Eyes,
Wings,
Arthur Verocai,
The Standells,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Theoretical Girls,
Accadde A,
D'Angelo,
Youth Brigade,
The Mojo Men,
The Index,
The Divine Comedy,
John Cale,
The Blues Magoos,
Fear,
The Alarm Clocks,
Royal Trux,
The Dirtbombs,
Pharoah Sanders,
June Days,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Talk Talk,
Half Japanese,
La Düsseldorf,
Tommy Roe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cal Tjader,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Colin Newman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funkadelic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lightning Bolt,
Cecil Taylor,
X-102,
Y Pants,
Agent Orange,
Gong,
The Sound,
Lungfish,
Crash Course in Science,
Ponytail,
Janne Schatter,
Blossom Toes,
Procol Harum,
Von Mondo,
Urselle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.