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 Kyrgyzstan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mad Mike to the disco 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Duran Duran,
U.S. Maple,
Royal Trux,
Johnny Osbourne,
Swans,
John Foxx,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Man Parrish,
Nick Fraelich,
Livin' Joy,
Aloha Tigers,
The Litter,
Moby Grape,
Chris & Cosey,
Avey Tare,
Kerrie Biddell,
Byron Stingily,
Roxette,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kayak,
Throbbing Gristle,
Morten Harket,
Faust,
Ultravox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Interpol,
Outsiders,
Dual Sessions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mr. Review,
Dark Day,
Marine Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alison Limerick,
The Monks,
The Slits,
Danielle Patucci,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
FM Einheit,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eddi Front,
Scrapy,
the Germs,
The Gladiators,
Patti Smith,
X-101,
Grauzone,
Janne Schatter,
Trumans Water,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Human League,
Leonard Cohen,
Prince Buster,
The Kinks,
The Saints,
Black Pus,
Anthony Braxton,
Ornette Coleman,
Todd Rundgren,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bush Tetras,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.