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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lagos.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Monks to the electroclash 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Brothers Johnson,
Reuben Wilson,
The Doors,
The Durutti Column,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gladiators,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Intrusion,
The Electric Prunes,
Shuggie Otis,
Country Teasers,
Erasure,
T. Rex,
Harmonia,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roger Hodgson,
Radiohead,
The Golliwogs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Talk Talk,
Stiv Bators,
Roxy Music,
Gong,
Adolescents,
LL Cool J,
Babytalk,
China Crisis,
Mo-Dettes,
Oblivians,
Kerri Chandler,
Mad Mike,
Aloha Tigers,
B.T. Express,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Saints,
The Stooges,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fad Gadget,
Cal Tjader,
D'Angelo,
Lucky Dragons,
Scott Walker,
the Slits,
Jeff Lynne,
Michelle Simonal,
Darondo,
The United States of America,
Clear Light,
Public Enemy,
Trumans Water,
Davy DMX,
Scientists,
Monks,
The Seeds,
Bad Manners,
John Cale,
Eddi Front,
Black Flag,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Leonard Cohen,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.