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 St Lucia and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 DJ Style to the disco 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Agent Orange,
Lakeside,
Loose Ends,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Slackers,
Funky Four + One,
Whodini,
China Crisis,
Laurel Aitken,
Sällskapet,
Traffic Nightmare,
JFA,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Unwound,
Sixth Finger,
Byron Stingily,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Clear Light,
FM Einheit,
Nas,
Faust,
Mandrill,
Tubeway Army,
Oneida,
Au Pairs,
Motorama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hardrive,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Leaves,
Bluetip,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Techniques,
Depeche Mode,
David McCallum,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gun Club,
Dave Gahan,
Crooked Eye,
La Düsseldorf,
Quadrant,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minor Threat,
Camberwell Now,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang of Four,
Guru Guru,
Moby Grape,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Godley & Creme,
Sam Rivers,
Cameo,
Connie Case,
Ohio Players,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.