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 Antigua 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Loose Ends to the grime 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 E-Dancer 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?
Electric Light Orchestra,
David Axelrod,
Heaven 17,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Remains,
Metal Thangz,
Main Source,
the Soft Cell,
The Blues Magoos,
The Golliwogs,
The Pop Group,
Tom Boy,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dirtbombs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Girls At Our Best!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Toasters,
The Dead C,
The Busters,
The Pretty Things,
Joensuu 1685,
Ice-T,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kenny Larkin,
June of 44,
Ultravox,
Aaron Thompson,
Mantronix,
ABBA,
Archie Shepp,
Rufus Thomas,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Index,
Hashim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Spandau Ballet,
Idris Muhammad,
Blossom Toes,
The Names,
Colin Newman,
Infiniti,
Sarah Menescal,
Warren Ellis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sam Rivers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nirvana,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Television Personalities,
Guru Guru,
Absolute Body Control,
Schoolly D,
Kerri Chandler,
Icehouse,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Misunderstood,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ituana,
Scan 7,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.