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 Haiti and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minnie Riperton to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Bronski Beat,
Monks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Index,
Ituana,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Mummies,
June Days,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stereo Dub,
The Pretty Things,
The Toasters,
Roger Hodgson,
Mr. Review,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eve St. Jones,
The J.B.'s,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fugazi,
Lalann,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Radiohead,
The Beau Brummels,
Scott Walker,
Pussy Galore,
The Wake,
Quadrant,
Suburban Knight,
EPMD,
Skarface,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Blancmange,
B.T. Express,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cal Tjader,
Boredoms,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Bananas,
Magma,
The Five Americans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Isaac Hayes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Young Marble Giants,
Television,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minor Threat,
the Association,
The Golliwogs,
Subhumans,
Cheater Slicks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nils Olav,
Tears for Fears,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.