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 Tuvalu and from Portland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 CMW to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Yellowson,
The Slits,
Althea and Donna,
Max Romeo,
Bob Dylan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monolake,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Doobie Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Doors,
Outsiders,
Eli Mardock,
Bill Wells,
Section 25,
Neil Young,
Eve St. Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
The Misunderstood,
Suicide,
the Soft Cell,
Half Japanese,
Tubeway Army,
DJ Sneak,
F. McDonald,
Dead Boys,
Gichy Dan,
Pylon,
Kas Product,
The Fire Engines,
Magazine,
Scan 7,
Pierre Henry,
Sandy B,
The Evens,
Scrapy,
Kayak,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Qualms,
Ituana,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Charles Mingus,
Silicon Teens,
Inner City,
Letta Mbulu,
Dennis Brown,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roxy Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rekid,
Country Teasers,
Deepchord,
China Crisis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Rundgren,
Rod Modell,
The Dead C,
Dual Sessions,
Pole,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.