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 Iceland and from Beijing.
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 Lyon and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
The Leaves,
Vladislav Delay,
Thee Headcoats,
Wings,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Underground Resistance,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Invisible,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fugazi,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang of Four,
Mantronix,
Mars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Todd Terry,
Nik Kershaw,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Neon Judgement,
The Real Kids,
Ken Boothe,
Suicide,
Peter and Kerry,
Bluetip,
The Divine Comedy,
Wally Richardson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mark Hollis,
Visage,
The Modern Lovers,
Joy Division,
Erykah Badu,
The Gories,
Bronski Beat,
Oblivians,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Pus,
Television Personalities,
X-101,
AZ,
Erasure,
The Walker Brothers,
Rosa Yemen,
Ronnie Foster,
The Saints,
Pussy Galore,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Blues Magoos,
Bill Near,
The Happenings,
Lightning Bolt,
Camouflage,
Minny Pops,
The Seeds,
Oneida,
Eve St. Jones,
Joe Smooth,
David McCallum,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.