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 Libya and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 Joe Smooth to the electroclash 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Wings,
the Normal,
Angry Samoans,
the Germs,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Womack,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Slick Rick,
Ponytail,
Tom Boy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Magazine,
The Golliwogs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Young Rascals,
Agitation Free,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mojo Men,
Skaos,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang of Four,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Real Kids,
Spoonie Gee,
Ohio Players,
Hashim,
Supertramp,
Con Funk Shun,
Masters at Work,
Juan Atkins,
Gabor Szabo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Litter,
Archie Shepp,
Slave,
Danielle Patucci,
Adolescents,
Au Pairs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minor Threat,
Joe Smooth,
Deepchord,
The Electric Prunes,
Moss Icon,
the Swans,
Nico,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Idris Muhammad,
The United States of America,
June Days,
The Zeros,
The Music Machine,
Faust,
Alison Limerick,
Donald Byrd,
Sparks,
Rapeman,
Nick Fraelich,
Freddie Wadling,
The Sonics,
The Star Department,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.