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 Nicaragua and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the grunge 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Soft Cell,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brass Construction,
Amazonics,
Bill Wells,
The Blackbyrds,
Los Fastidios,
Soft Machine,
Pantaleimon,
Connie Case,
Bauhaus,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Victims,
Isaac Hayes,
Oblivians,
Faraquet,
Dead Boys,
Y Pants,
Ultimate Spinach,
Masters at Work,
Panda Bear,
Archie Shepp,
The Skatalites,
Mr. Review,
Soulsonic Force,
Outsiders,
Intrusion,
Motorama,
John Cale,
Underground Resistance,
Black Flag,
Monolake,
Fela Kuti,
Brick,
Patti Smith,
PIL,
MC5,
Crime,
Bluetip,
Roxette,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alice Coltrane,
The Smiths,
Gang Green,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Skaos,
Liliput,
Matthew Bourne,
Erasure,
Chrome,
Surgeon,
Gang Starr,
Stetsasonic,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.