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 Mozambique and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Fugazi to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Bill Wells,
John Coltrane,
Boz Scaggs,
Judy Mowatt,
Juan Atkins,
The Buckinghams,
Scrapy,
Pagans,
Motorama,
Kurtis Blow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sarah Menescal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stereo Dub,
Bluetip,
Young Marble Giants,
Lakeside,
Patti Smith,
Masters at Work,
The Modern Lovers,
Oneida,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mad Mike,
Gang Green,
Drexciya,
the Bar-Kays,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Beau Brummels,
KRS-One,
Radiopuhelimet,
Harry Pussy,
UT,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Misunderstood,
The Leaves,
JFA,
Glenn Branca,
The United States of America,
Aloha Tigers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cal Tjader,
Absolute Body Control,
U.S. Maple,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Can,
Scratch Acid,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jimmy McGriff,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lindisfarne,
The Smiths,
The Trojans,
Flipper,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roy Ayers,
Davy DMX,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fugazi,
World's Most,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.