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 Burundi and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Lydon,
Sun City Girls,
Charles Mingus,
The Neon Judgement,
Shoche,
Magma,
Hot Snakes,
Thompson Twins,
Erasure,
David Axelrod,
Rakim,
Hasil Adkins,
T. Rex,
June of 44,
Mr. Review,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Anakelly,
Motorama,
Fugazi,
Subhumans,
Chrome,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Skriet,
Mandrill,
U.S. Maple,
David Bowie,
Mars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Offenders,
The Zeros,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Monolake,
Bluetip,
Ken Boothe,
The Smoke,
Eric Copeland,
The Stooges,
Duran Duran,
Sandy B,
kango's stein massive,
Pantytec,
Amon Düül II,
Deakin,
Barbara Tucker,
8 Eyed Spy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Freddie Wadling,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cybotron,
the Germs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radio Birdman,
Quadrant,
June Days,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Glambeats Corp.,
JFA,
Be Bop Deluxe,
D'Angelo,
The Cure,
Crime,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.