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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fear to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pole,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minutemen,
Brass Construction,
The Zeros,
The Golliwogs,
the Swans,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Normal,
A Flock of Seagulls,
10cc,
The Angels of Light,
Tres Demented,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Severed Heads,
Glenn Branca,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Monks,
Lakeside,
The Mummies,
Stockholm Monsters,
Howard Jones,
Amazonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arcadia,
Lalann,
Gerry Rafferty,
One Last Wish,
The Selecter,
Lou Reed,
Wire,
Traffic Nightmare,
James White and The Blacks,
The Black Dice,
The Doors,
Ronan,
The Smiths,
E-Dancer,
Quando Quango,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Smoke,
The Gun Club,
China Crisis,
Radio Birdman,
Zero Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Donald Byrd,
Flipper,
Scan 7,
Interpol,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Reagan Youth,
Radiohead,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.