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 Barbados and from Accra.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ 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 MC5 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
L. Decosne,
Darondo,
Thee Headcoats,
Boredoms,
The New Christs,
John Foxx,
The Litter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Smog,
The Smoke,
Bad Manners,
Lungfish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
New York Dolls,
Lindisfarne,
Scrapy,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Green,
Make Up,
The Remains,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Evens,
Tres Demented,
R.M.O.,
Ultravox,
Newcleus,
Amazonics,
Kayak,
Howard Jones,
Sixth Finger,
Camouflage,
Scan 7,
Andrew Hill,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultra Naté,
Quadrant,
Symarip,
Godley & Creme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Von Mondo,
La Düsseldorf,
Fatback Band,
Rod Modell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Busters,
Chris & Cosey,
T. Rex,
Skriet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Neon Judgement,
Tears for Fears,
the Normal,
Public Enemy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can,
Laurel Aitken,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.