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 Honduras and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Rekid to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Smog,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Sheep,
Joey Negro,
Bush Tetras,
Delta 5,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moss Icon,
Letta Mbulu,
Mo-Dettes,
The Residents,
Skaos,
Chrome,
Funky Four + One,
Dark Day,
Byron Stingily,
Carl Craig,
Vainqueur,
Juan Atkins,
Q65,
Masters at Work,
Neil Young,
The Last Poets,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
D'Angelo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Audionom,
Ultimate Spinach,
Au Pairs,
Skriet,
The Index,
Deadbeat,
Echospace,
Y Pants,
Swans,
The Remains,
Curtis Mayfield,
Howard Jones,
Hot Snakes,
Yaz,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Associates,
Joy Division,
Josef K,
The Modern Lovers,
Magma,
the Soft Cell,
Steve Hackett,
Moebius,
The Evens,
Susan Cadogan,
Rufus Thomas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Section 25,
48th St. Collective,
The Vogues,
Aural Exciters,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.