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 Papua New Guinea and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Angry Samoans to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slick Rick,
The Busters,
Motorama,
T. Rex,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kaleidoscope,
the Normal,
Eve St. Jones,
Delta 5,
Eli Mardock,
Vainqueur,
Tim Buckley,
Minutemen,
Nik Kershaw,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alphaville,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terry Callier,
Lindisfarne,
Josef K,
Mandrill,
F. McDonald,
Donny Hathaway,
Lungfish,
The Seeds,
Smog,
Angry Samoans,
The Neon Judgement,
the Fania All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Tears for Fears,
The Doobie Brothers,
Althea and Donna,
Dark Day,
Duran Duran,
Lower 48,
New Age Steppers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rotary Connection,
The Red Krayola,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hoover,
Rites of Spring,
Guru Guru,
Desert Stars,
Make Up,
T.S.O.L.,
Sparks,
Hardrive,
Hot Snakes,
the Soft Cell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rapeman,
The Smiths,
Kerrie Biddell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Swans,
Sun City Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Symarip,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.