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 Congo and from Salvador.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Gories to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Rekid,
The Blues Magoos,
Reuben Wilson,
Clear Light,
Groovy Waters,
Schoolly D,
Drexciya,
Archie Shepp,
Adolescents,
Sixth Finger,
Jacques Brel,
Das Ding,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bronski Beat,
Shoche,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Busters,
Babytalk,
The Fire Engines,
Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neu!,
Eden Ahbez,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
David McCallum,
Grey Daturas,
Sam Rivers,
Rosa Yemen,
Amon Düül,
Icehouse,
the Germs,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Womack,
The Birthday Party,
Tears for Fears,
Scientists,
The Music Machine,
Ultimate Spinach,
Godley & Creme,
John Coltrane,
Khruangbin,
Moebius,
T. Rex,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mad Mike,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Animal Collective,
the Sonics,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crispian St. Peters,
Television Personalities,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Swans,
Barry Ungar,
Pagans,
Metal Thangz,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.