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 Micronesia and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Magazine to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül II,
The Neon Judgement,
Pharoah Sanders,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Judy Mowatt,
Bronski Beat,
Gabor Szabo,
ABC,
Ossler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Niagra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Litter,
Donald Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
F. McDonald,
Infiniti,
Babytalk,
Youth Brigade,
The Music Machine,
Joensuu 1685,
FM Einheit,
The Invisible,
Harry Pussy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Monks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sex Pistols,
The Electric Prunes,
Skarface,
Agitation Free,
The Blackbyrds,
Clear Light,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Intrusion,
Warren Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
Saccharine Trust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joyce Sims,
Lightning Bolt,
Chris & Cosey,
Gang Gang Dance,
Brand Nubian,
Slick Rick,
Juan Atkins,
Pantaleimon,
Buzzcocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Vainqueur,
Icehouse,
The Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scrapy,
The J.B.'s,
Harmonia,
The Knickerbockers,
Reagan Youth,
Jandek,
Pylon,
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.