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 Maldives and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum 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 Theoretical Girls to the dance 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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
John Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Swell Maps,
Spandau Ballet,
The Offenders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang Gang Dance,
In Retrospect,
The Gap Band,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Divine Comedy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Television,
Alphaville,
the Swans,
Jeff Lynne,
Can,
Skarface,
Altered Images,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sugar Minott,
Black Pus,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jacques Brel,
L. Decosne,
The Zeros,
Graham Central Station,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cheater Slicks,
CMW,
Monolake,
Oblivians,
ABC,
E-Dancer,
Maurizio,
Erykah Badu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ohio Players,
The Pretty Things,
Amon Düül II,
The Invisible,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Reuben Wilson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Essential Logic,
The Black Dice,
Boz Scaggs,
The Walker Brothers,
Brass Construction,
Sparks,
Nas,
Amazonics,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.