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 Solomon Islands and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the techno 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Beau Brummels,
John Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
Archie Shepp,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Liliput,
Hot Snakes,
Flipper,
Au Pairs,
The United States of America,
Con Funk Shun,
June of 44,
The Happenings,
Robert Hood,
Eric Dolphy,
Wally Richardson,
Robert Görl,
Main Source,
Bob Dylan,
Simply Red,
a-ha,
Swans,
Tubeway Army,
Pantytec,
Kaleidoscope,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
UT,
Marmalade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lalann,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dead Boys,
Slave,
Jimmy McGriff,
Porter Ricks,
This Heat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Technova,
Ultravox,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marine Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
FM Einheit,
La Düsseldorf,
Yellowson,
Ten City,
Subhumans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eden Ahbez,
Jerry's Kids,
Neu!,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Sonics,
Dave Gahan,
The Associates,
Sarah Menescal,
Symarip,
Make Up,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.