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 Turkmenistan and from Madrid.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Malaria! to the rock 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
China Crisis,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Das Ding,
T. Rex,
John Cale,
Mission of Burma,
The Durutti Column,
Can,
Juan Atkins,
The Motions,
Yellowson,
Soul II Soul,
Roger Hodgson,
Henry Cow,
One Last Wish,
Nik Kershaw,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Görl,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sister Nancy,
The Fortunes,
Au Pairs,
Groovy Waters,
Hardrive,
The American Breed,
Zero Boys,
Pussy Galore,
X-101,
Procol Harum,
Swell Maps,
The Kinks,
The Monks,
Judy Mowatt,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fatback Band,
Whodini,
The Invisible,
The Angels of Light,
Dead Boys,
The Dead C,
Crooked Eye,
The Cramps,
Easy Going,
The Leaves,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Absolute Body Control,
Massinfluence,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erykah Badu,
Skarface,
Peter & Gordon,
Theoretical Girls,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.