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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Jakarta.
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 Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roger Hodgson to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Whodini,
Blancmange,
The Divine Comedy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fire Engines,
Danielle Patucci,
Gang Gang Dance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brand Nubian,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camouflage,
John Cale,
Ronan,
The Mojo Men,
Easy Going,
Babytalk,
Lakeside,
The Slits,
Sugar Minott,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Star Department,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Livin' Joy,
Tubeway Army,
Ornette Coleman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bad Manners,
Cameo,
Alison Limerick,
The Toasters,
Brick,
Saccharine Trust,
The Names,
Rites of Spring,
Tim Buckley,
The Flesh Eaters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
These Immortal Souls,
Essential Logic,
The Music Machine,
The Black Dice,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Todd Terry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
T.S.O.L.,
Make Up,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Golliwogs,
Pole,
The Doors,
Magazine,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.