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 Mali and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba 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 Heaven 17 to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Ludus,
T.S.O.L.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-102,
Sarah Menescal,
The American Breed,
Underground Resistance,
The Standells,
Rotary Connection,
The Selecter,
Sixth Finger,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
AZ,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Moleskins,
Heaven 17,
U.S. Maple,
Derrick May,
Absolute Body Control,
Pagans,
Pantytec,
Intrusion,
Josef K,
X-101,
Second Layer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Y Pants,
Dead Boys,
Connie Case,
Saccharine Trust,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fatback Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Stooges,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Christie,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Harpers Bizarre,
Young Marble Giants,
Slick Rick,
Outsiders,
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
Todd Terry,
Fad Gadget,
Vainqueur,
Al Stewart,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soul II Soul,
Icehouse,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pere Ubu,
ABBA,
Grey Daturas,
Pierre Henry,
June Days,
Johnny Clarke,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.