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 Philippines and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Red Krayola,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Clear Light,
Sandy B,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Depeche Mode,
June Days,
Little Man,
K-Klass,
Prince Buster,
New York Dolls,
Suicide,
Ultravox,
Sun Ra,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Real Kids,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
a-ha,
Wally Richardson,
Dave Gahan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Matthew Halsall,
Roger Hodgson,
Shoche,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Angels of Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Trojans,
ABC,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arab on Radar,
Alton Ellis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blake Baxter,
Tim Buckley,
Bluetip,
Eurythmics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Moleskins,
The Invisible,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gabor Szabo,
The Litter,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nirvana,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Swans,
Das Ding,
Harry Pussy,
Donald Byrd,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Radiohead,
MDC,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Seeds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.