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 Mexico and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 The Blues Magoos to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Wake,
Bootsy Collins,
Pantytec,
Black Sheep,
Gang of Four,
Anthony Braxton,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blossom Toes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deepchord,
The Evens,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Animal Collective,
John Foxx,
E-Dancer,
Lucky Dragons,
Aural Exciters,
Ultravox,
Juan Atkins,
Thee Headcoats,
F. McDonald,
The Index,
Kaleidoscope,
Throbbing Gristle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Janne Schatter,
Sarah Menescal,
X-101,
Whodini,
Roxette,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dennis Brown,
Lakeside,
Ohio Players,
Monks,
The Sonics,
Glambeats Corp.,
Shoche,
Fat Boys,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Amazonics,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Crispian St. Peters,
Altered Images,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pulsallama,
Liliput,
Tim Buckley,
Joe Finger,
Quadrant,
Ten City,
Gong,
Subhumans,
Quantec,
Surgeon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.