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 Belarus and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 New Order to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
The Stooges,
Basic Channel,
The Black Dice,
Mission of Burma,
The Sonics,
Roy Ayers,
Barrington Levy,
Arcadia,
Junior Murvin,
Section 25,
Sällskapet,
Delta 5,
Crime,
Faust,
The Fall,
Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
Stetsasonic,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Starr,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
Yellowson,
The Busters,
Black Pus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
Colin Newman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Music Machine,
Das Ding,
Mandrill,
Rapeman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Judy Mowatt,
Khruangbin,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Skriet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tommy Roe,
Skarface,
The Cramps,
The Moody Blues,
Prince Buster,
The Selecter,
the Slits,
H. Thieme,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Minnie Riperton,
Minny Pops,
Fugazi,
Lou Reed,
Wolf Eyes,
The Litter,
Scion,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.