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 Seychelles and from Bremen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 David Bowie to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Susan Cadogan,
Flash Fearless,
Wire,
Dual Sessions,
Brick,
Massinfluence,
Second Layer,
Chris Corsano,
Toni Rubio,
Pussy Galore,
Unwound,
Joyce Sims,
Lalann,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sister Nancy,
Black Sheep,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare,
Derrick May,
R.M.O.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Maleditus Sound,
Scrapy,
Neil Young,
The Move,
Liliput,
Pantytec,
Interpol,
Black Bananas,
The Barracudas,
Donald Byrd,
Lungfish,
Icehouse,
The Leaves,
Blossom Toes,
Camouflage,
Minutemen,
Lightning Bolt,
FM Einheit,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
New Age Steppers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed,
Camberwell Now,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Raincoats,
Bang On A Can,
E-Dancer,
Aural Exciters,
Jeff Mills,
KRS-One,
Grandmaster Flash,
H. Thieme,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.