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 Jordan and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Freddie Wadling to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 Walker Brothers,
Marc Almond,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marine Girls,
X-101,
Liliput,
Aloha Tigers,
Connie Case,
Angry Samoans,
Jacques Brel,
Todd Terry,
Television Personalities,
Essential Logic,
The Neon Judgement,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pretty Things,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Unrelated Segments,
The Names,
Con Funk Shun,
Buzzcocks,
Graham Central Station,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eden Ahbez,
Michelle Simonal,
Rites of Spring,
Quadrant,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Human League,
Youth Brigade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anthony Braxton,
Johnny Osbourne,
Agent Orange,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Wyatt,
Sister Nancy,
Siglo XX,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Aural Exciters,
Camouflage,
The Knickerbockers,
Scientists,
Sarah Menescal,
Delta 5,
Marmalade,
Dennis Brown,
Television,
Cameo,
MC5,
The Wake,
Babytalk,
Mantronix,
Boz Scaggs,
Janne Schatter,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.