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 Lyon.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 JFA to the electroclash 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Mr. Review,
Rosa Yemen,
Pantaleimon,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Birthday Party,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Coltrane,
Soul II Soul,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Derrick May,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Chris Corsano,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Arab on Radar,
The Residents,
Lalo Schifrin,
Quando Quango,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Archie Shepp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sisters of Mercy,
A Certain Ratio,
Mo-Dettes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pylon,
D'Angelo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roxette,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Smog,
K-Klass,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Slits,
Q65,
Zero Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Country Teasers,
Flipper,
Max Romeo,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Foxx,
Howard Jones,
June of 44,
The Buckinghams,
Main Source,
Marc Almond,
Sixth Finger,
Minnie Riperton,
10cc,
X-101,
Eurythmics,
Suicide,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.