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 Chad and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eurythmics to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eli Mardock,
Metal Thangz,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Residents,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sugar Minott,
Warsaw,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Funky Four + One,
Severed Heads,
The Cramps,
Yazoo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultra Naté,
the Swans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Flipper,
Bob Dylan,
Bluetip,
Pierre Henry,
Wally Richardson,
The Smoke,
Matthew Bourne,
Animal Collective,
Neil Young,
Erasure,
Henry Cow,
Harmonia,
Wire,
Crime,
Arthur Verocai,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
H. Thieme,
Kerri Chandler,
Ice-T,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gladiators,
Brothers Johnson,
Big Daddy Kane,
June of 44,
Babytalk,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Drive Like Jehu,
Radiohead,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Walker Brothers,
Popol Vuh,
Pussy Galore,
Malaria!,
Zapp,
Sarah Menescal,
Depeche Mode,
Fugazi,
Talk Talk,
Infiniti,
ABBA,
Sam Rivers,
Blancmange,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.