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 Gabon and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pulsallama to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Pierre Henry,
LL Cool J,
Nation of Ulysses,
Patti Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pet Shop Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cramps,
Howard Jones,
Heaven 17,
Drive Like Jehu,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Altered Images,
Anthony Braxton,
Althea and Donna,
Deakin,
Ludus,
Bootsy Collins,
Procol Harum,
Index,
Marine Girls,
John Holt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Silicon Teens,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suburban Knight,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Flag,
Camouflage,
The Beau Brummels,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Bar-Kays,
A Certain Ratio,
Donald Byrd,
Brick,
CMW,
Television,
the Germs,
The Stooges,
Wire,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Icehouse,
Circle Jerks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The United States of America,
Ice-T,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Visage,
Whodini,
Eve St. Jones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rekid,
Fatback Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.