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 Spain and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Young Rascals to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Severed Heads,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joe Smooth,
Nils Olav,
Terry Callier,
Magma,
Scott Walker,
Bob Dylan,
Circle Jerks,
Reagan Youth,
Sparks,
Vladislav Delay,
Interpol,
The Slits,
Procol Harum,
The Associates,
Crooked Eye,
The Music Machine,
Todd Terry,
Don Cherry,
The Offenders,
Funkadelic,
John Coltrane,
Spoonie Gee,
Eve St. Jones,
Pagans,
Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
Maurizio,
The Martian,
Quantec,
the Bar-Kays,
Scion,
Fatback Band,
Jeff Mills,
Black Flag,
Pierre Henry,
Mary Jane Girls,
ABC,
Heaven 17,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Doors,
T.S.O.L.,
Brick,
Amazonics,
Bluetip,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hoover,
Clear Light,
Max Romeo,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Walker Brothers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kurtis Blow,
Frankie Knuckles,
Albert Ayler,
The Evens,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.