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 Montenegro and from Portland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Beasts of Bourbon 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Fat Boys,
Warsaw,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Graham Central Station,
8 Eyed Spy,
Susan Cadogan,
The Star Department,
Juan Atkins,
Michelle Simonal,
10cc,
Robert Hood,
Amon Düül II,
DJ Sneak,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Byrd,
Reagan Youth,
Robert Görl,
June of 44,
Don Cherry,
Oblivians,
Essential Logic,
The Sonics,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Laurel Aitken,
Bluetip,
Eddi Front,
Metal Thangz,
Davy DMX,
The Gladiators,
The Smiths,
Bill Near,
Sight & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Lungfish,
Moss Icon,
UT,
Pagans,
Bill Wells,
Pierre Henry,
James White and The Blacks,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Remains,
Rekid,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Babytalk,
Scott Walker,
The Associates,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cymande,
Silicon Teens,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Section 25,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
K-Klass,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fuzztones,
Black Bananas,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.