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 France and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Television to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Yazoo,
Freddie Wadling,
The Five Americans,
The Gladiators,
Pussy Galore,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nils Olav,
The Motions,
Whodini,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Byrd,
Siglo XX,
Soft Machine,
World's Most,
Negative Approach,
Heaven 17,
Royal Trux,
Jerry's Kids,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jeff Mills,
Sällskapet,
48th St. Collective,
Kayak,
Gang Green,
Chrome,
Smog,
Black Moon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Franke,
Faraquet,
Monolake,
Vladislav Delay,
Fugazi,
OOIOO,
Laurel Aitken,
The Toasters,
Bush Tetras,
Adolescents,
Malaria!,
Isaac Hayes,
Carl Craig,
Donald Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
Arcadia,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yellowson,
The Dead C,
Byron Stingily,
Lucky Dragons,
Motorama,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dead Boys,
The Index,
Pantaleimon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Funky Four + One,
The Seeds,
Cymande,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.