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 Suriname and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 City Girls to the grunge 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Crispy Ambulance,
Unwound,
Heaven 17,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fuzztones,
Das Ding,
Au Pairs,
D'Angelo,
Ludus,
Yazoo,
New Order,
The Litter,
B.T. Express,
Magma,
Fugazi,
The Victims,
Aural Exciters,
Don Cherry,
Stereo Dub,
Sex Pistols,
Brass Construction,
Crooked Eye,
Infiniti,
Matthew Halsall,
Maleditus Sound,
Funky Four + One,
The Martian,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Christie,
Jawbox,
Man Parrish,
The Skatalites,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pussy Galore,
The Techniques,
JFA,
K-Klass,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Bananas,
Television Personalities,
Organ,
Los Fastidios,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Divine Comedy,
One Last Wish,
48th St. Collective,
Morten Harket,
Radiohead,
Idris Muhammad,
Roy Ayers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Von Mondo,
Ornette Coleman,
Nas,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Wake,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joensuu 1685,
Adolescents,
Flash Fearless,
Soft Machine,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.