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 Peru and from Hong Kong.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mummies,
Rotary Connection,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Suicide,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eve St. Jones,
The Raincoats,
JFA,
Wasted Youth,
Deepchord,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Albert Ayler,
Qualms,
Jawbox,
The Remains,
The Buckinghams,
The Sound,
Donald Byrd,
Donny Hathaway,
Half Japanese,
Section 25,
The Electric Prunes,
Loose Ends,
Hasil Adkins,
Peter and Kerry,
Tomorrow,
Kayak,
Eyeless In Gaza,
kango's stein massive,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The United States of America,
Banda Bassotti,
Lakeside,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Angels of Light,
AZ,
Pierre Henry,
Bad Manners,
Mo-Dettes,
The Stooges,
Lindisfarne,
Basic Channel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Drive Like Jehu,
La Düsseldorf,
Inner City,
Jeff Mills,
Minnie Riperton,
Sister Nancy,
the Germs,
ABBA,
The Divine Comedy,
The J.B.'s,
Johnny Osbourne,
Essential Logic,
Magma,
Rekid,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.