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 Egypt and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 Arab on Radar to the disco 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Mantronix,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Star Department,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sonics,
The Music Machine,
The Beau Brummels,
Wasted Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pantaleimon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ornette Coleman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ludus,
AZ,
Eurythmics,
Outsiders,
The Last Poets,
The Monks,
The Selecter,
Max Romeo,
Tom Boy,
The Techniques,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Searchers,
John Foxx,
The Buckinghams,
The Misunderstood,
The Count Five,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aaron Thompson,
Vainqueur,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fluxion,
Michelle Simonal,
EPMD,
Roger Hodgson,
Magma,
Cameo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pulsallama,
David McCallum,
Anakelly,
This Heat,
David Bowie,
Urselle,
Jacques Brel,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nils Olav,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed,
Rod Modell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare,
10cc,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.