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 Egypt and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Milan.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Q65 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Joey Negro,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Das Ding,
Sound Behaviour,
The Skatalites,
Neu!,
The Fall,
The Names,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Can,
a-ha,
Prince Buster,
The Wake,
The New Christs,
The Mojo Men,
Thee Headcoats,
Livin' Joy,
The United States of America,
Scratch Acid,
Eve St. Jones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Motions,
June of 44,
Bang On A Can,
Masters at Work,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Absolute Body Control,
Nas,
The Knickerbockers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amazonics,
The Last Poets,
Wings,
The Blues Magoos,
Matthew Bourne,
Simply Red,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Agent Orange,
Roxy Music,
kango's stein massive,
Marc Almond,
New Age Steppers,
Black Moon,
Dawn Penn,
Black Pus,
Flash Fearless,
Roger Hodgson,
Mark Hollis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Monks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Metal Thangz,
Visage,
Rakim,
This Heat,
Outsiders,
Public Image Ltd.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Model 500,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.