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 Hungary and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Sun City Girls to the crunk 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Pole,
Underground Resistance,
Magazine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Monks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Intrusion,
Make Up,
The Busters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
One Last Wish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mummies,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cowsills,
Visage,
Unwound,
Tim Buckley,
Monolake,
Prince Buster,
Television Personalities,
Susan Cadogan,
KRS-One,
DJ Sneak,
Sister Nancy,
Deadbeat,
Malaria!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Trumans Water,
The Gories,
Juan Atkins,
Amon Düül,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cal Tjader,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Techniques,
Black Sheep,
Boz Scaggs,
The Index,
Robert Hood,
The Toasters,
Fugazi,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Audionom,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fela Kuti,
Dave Gahan,
Minutemen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Funkadelic,
The Modern Lovers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Danielle Patucci,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
The Sound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Shoche,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.