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 Botswana and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Cymande to the grunge 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eddi Front,
Sexual Harrassment,
This Heat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Starr,
Fat Boys,
Yellowson,
Echospace,
Laurel Aitken,
Porter Ricks,
Wolf Eyes,
Urselle,
Jawbox,
The Dead C,
Pulsallama,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Womack,
The Durutti Column,
Absolute Body Control,
Chrome,
Y Pants,
New Age Steppers,
Desert Stars,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Yusef Lateef,
Lou Reed,
Eric Dolphy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Kaleidoscope,
T.S.O.L.,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Buckinghams,
Wire,
Qualms,
Das Ding,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Juan Atkins,
Vainqueur,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joe Smooth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Easy Going,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Pus,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Barracudas,
The Mummies,
Ultravox,
Tres Demented,
the Association,
Skaos,
Leonard Cohen,
The Monks,
Scan 7,
Sun Ra,
Wasted Youth,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.