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 Mauritius and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 T. Rex to the rap 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Mission of Burma,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Au Pairs,
Kayak,
Sam Rivers,
Arthur Verocai,
Black Pus,
Gang of Four,
Metal Thangz,
the Bar-Kays,
The Velvet Underground,
DJ Sneak,
Jacques Brel,
The Beau Brummels,
Dual Sessions,
Youth Brigade,
The Martian,
Ralphi Rosario,
David Bowie,
Swell Maps,
Letta Mbulu,
Morten Harket,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Litter,
X-Ray Spex,
Soulsonic Force,
Cal Tjader,
Thee Headcoats,
Nation of Ulysses,
Siglo XX,
The Fall,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tres Demented,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joensuu 1685,
Newcleus,
Interpol,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric Copeland,
Q65,
Unwound,
Negative Approach,
Terry Callier,
Faust,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Angels of Light,
A Certain Ratio,
Unrelated Segments,
The Black Dice,
Peter and Kerry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The New Christs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marvin Gaye,
Marshall Jefferson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Robert Görl,
Lalo Schifrin,
OOIOO,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.