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 Switzerland and from New York.
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 Spokane and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Magma to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echospace,
James White and The Blacks,
Charles Mingus,
Crooked Eye,
the Soft Cell,
Minor Threat,
Zapp,
John Holt,
Vainqueur,
Nirvana,
Lou Reed,
The Last Poets,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Das Ding,
Pere Ubu,
Little Man,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Silicon Teens,
The Kinks,
The Gun Club,
Von Mondo,
Anthony Braxton,
Robert Görl,
Oblivians,
Interpol,
John Coltrane,
The Trojans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rosa Yemen,
The Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor,
Reagan Youth,
Peter and Kerry,
Section 25,
Mo-Dettes,
Surgeon,
Ice-T,
Clear Light,
Mandrill,
Moss Icon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Yaz,
Joe Smooth,
Jawbox,
Brothers Johnson,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
Scion,
Curtis Mayfield,
Qualms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.