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 Czech Republic and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 June Days to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick 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?
Wire,
Zapp,
Black Flag,
Audionom,
Dawn Penn,
Hasil Adkins,
Anthony Braxton,
Barrington Levy,
Sam Rivers,
Chris & Cosey,
Gastr Del Sol,
Glenn Branca,
Fear,
Monks,
Kas Product,
The Remains,
Basic Channel,
Be Bop Deluxe,
June of 44,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
New York Dolls,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Moon,
Eddi Front,
the Bar-Kays,
Livin' Joy,
Adolescents,
Skaos,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Technova,
Tomorrow,
Bill Wells,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Arab on Radar,
Jacob Miller,
Toni Rubio,
Amazonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eurythmics,
Sonic Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Slits,
Mad Mike,
Babytalk,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
T.S.O.L.,
The Grass Roots,
Silicon Teens,
Lower 48,
Sonny Sharrock,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Maleditus Sound,
The Victims,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bluetip,
Dennis Brown,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.