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 Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Main Source to the grunge 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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Trumans Water,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soft Cell,
Patti Smith,
Sun Ra,
Fad Gadget,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ornette Coleman,
Funkadelic,
Thompson Twins,
Electric Prunes,
Sonic Youth,
Guru Guru,
David Bowie,
Cybotron,
Rapeman,
Flipper,
Unrelated Segments,
Little Man,
Cheater Slicks,
Tomorrow,
The Invisible,
This Heat,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mandrill,
The Misunderstood,
Reuben Wilson,
Desert Stars,
The Trojans,
Liliput,
Bootsy Collins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arcadia,
The Residents,
The Martian,
Can,
Yellowson,
The J.B.'s,
The Sound,
Soft Machine,
The Moleskins,
Zapp,
Marine Girls,
Mantronix,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Idris Muhammad,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Goldenarms,
John Foxx,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jacques Brel,
Nico,
Mission of Burma,
Neil Young,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Music Machine,
Davy DMX,
The Human League,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.