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 Nigeria and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Harry Pussy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Aaron Thompson,
Khruangbin,
Spandau Ballet,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dead Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Ten City,
Agitation Free,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Sherman,
The Standells,
Spoonie Gee,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roy Ayers,
Saccharine Trust,
Barry Ungar,
Todd Terry,
Absolute Body Control,
Shoche,
Nils Olav,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jacob Miller,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pet Shop Boys,
Liliput,
Stiv Bators,
Electric Prunes,
Hasil Adkins,
The Vogues,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Bananas,
The Wake,
The Last Poets,
Duran Duran,
Camberwell Now,
The Walker Brothers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang Gang Dance,
Japan,
One Last Wish,
Boredoms,
Slave,
Quantec,
Skarface,
Anakelly,
Jawbox,
D'Angelo,
Black Pus,
Mr. Review,
Pagans,
Ronan,
Scott Walker,
Darondo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Harry Pussy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pierre Henry,
The Names,
Yaz,
La Düsseldorf,
Surgeon,
The J.B.'s,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.