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 Palau and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nick Fraelich to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
The Golliwogs,
Ultra Naté,
The Tremeloes,
Pantaleimon,
Todd Rundgren,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mantronix,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Camouflage,
Vainqueur,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bill Near,
Eyeless In Gaza,
H. Thieme,
Bauhaus,
The Moleskins,
Sight & Sound,
Tom Boy,
Animal Collective,
The Grass Roots,
The Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
X-Ray Spex,
Brick,
Archie Shepp,
The Dirtbombs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marmalade,
Wings,
Cal Tjader,
Slave,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cecil Taylor,
Glenn Branca,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brass Construction,
Derrick Morgan,
Man Parrish,
Altered Images,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wally Richardson,
Porter Ricks,
Sun Ra,
Angry Samoans,
The New Christs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
B.T. Express,
Audionom,
June of 44,
The Slackers,
Rotary Connection,
Danielle Patucci,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pylon,
The Gladiators,
Harmonia,
Ludus,
Oblivians,
The Five Americans,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.