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 Albania and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 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 The Count Five to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kaleidoscope,
DJ Style,
The Happenings,
The Doors,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quando Quango,
Johnny Clarke,
Vainqueur,
Flash Fearless,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nation of Ulysses,
ABBA,
Pussy Galore,
Unwound,
Minor Threat,
PIL,
Minutemen,
The Dead C,
Yaz,
Scott Walker,
MC5,
The Index,
Jeff Mills,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Model 500,
Camberwell Now,
Boz Scaggs,
Derrick Morgan,
B.T. Express,
the Association,
Ice-T,
John Lydon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Red Krayola,
Alison Limerick,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pere Ubu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
KRS-One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ornette Coleman,
Soft Machine,
U.S. Maple,
Cameo,
Gang of Four,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Junior Murvin,
Dawn Penn,
The Remains,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Blake Baxter,
The Sonics,
Eddi Front,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Moon,
Magazine,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
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.