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 Marshall Islands and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Tom Boy to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Country Teasers,
Soft Machine,
UT,
This Heat,
Warsaw,
Joey Negro,
The Litter,
Freddie Wadling,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tubeway Army,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lakeside,
Urselle,
Slick Rick,
Flash Fearless,
The Happenings,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Black Dice,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marmalade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Visage,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jacob Miller,
Scott Walker,
Soft Cell,
Connie Case,
Motorama,
Electric Prunes,
Donny Hathaway,
Dennis Brown,
Sugar Minott,
Das Ding,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Loose Ends,
Arthur Verocai,
These Immortal Souls,
Barrington Levy,
Chrome,
Accadde A,
the Bar-Kays,
The Leaves,
Amon Düül II,
Patti Smith,
PIL,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sound Behaviour,
Suburban Knight,
Agent Orange,
The Gun Club,
Sarah Menescal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Leonard Cohen,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Metal Thangz,
Grauzone,
The Martian,
the Slits,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.