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 Panama and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 organ 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Au Pairs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Spoonie Gee,
The Red Krayola,
Faust,
June of 44,
Guru Guru,
Vladislav Delay,
The J.B.'s,
ABC,
Harpers Bizarre,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mantronix,
Mary Jane Girls,
R.M.O.,
Sonic Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Gabor Szabo,
Von Mondo,
The Mojo Men,
The Smiths,
Leonard Cohen,
The Walker Brothers,
Marc Almond,
Al Stewart,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Deadbeat,
Excepter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minutemen,
Tears for Fears,
EPMD,
Josef K,
Royal Trux,
The Trojans,
The Angels of Light,
Soft Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
FM Einheit,
The Seeds,
Bobby Womack,
Alton Ellis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Main Source,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Bar-Kays,
Saccharine Trust,
Scion,
The Cure,
Talk Talk,
Radiopuhelimet,
Henry Cow,
The Blackbyrds,
Rapeman,
The Remains,
Sonny Sharrock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joy Division,
Sun Ra,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.