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 Mauritania and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Ultravox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rosa Yemen,
DJ Style,
the Swans,
Pere Ubu,
Mary Jane Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Connie Case,
Japan,
New Age Steppers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Stiv Bators,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeff Mills,
Barbara Tucker,
Jawbox,
The Saints,
The Modern Lovers,
Freddie Wadling,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Skarface,
John Cale,
The Associates,
Spandau Ballet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marcia Griffiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lou Reed,
Lungfish,
Stetsasonic,
The Real Kids,
John Holt,
F. McDonald,
Monks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Slackers,
Livin' Joy,
Cecil Taylor,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crime,
Saccharine Trust,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Alison Limerick,
The American Breed,
Pole,
Wally Richardson,
Byron Stingily,
Mission of Burma,
The Cowsills,
Model 500,
Clear Light,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DJ Sneak,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.