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 Macedonia and from Seoul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the disco 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Warren Ellis,
Althea and Donna,
Symarip,
Excepter,
Connie Case,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Smiths,
Fela Kuti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cure,
Section 25,
Lyres,
Blake Baxter,
June Days,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pantytec,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kurtis Blow,
CMW,
Sound Behaviour,
The Skatalites,
Robert Hood,
Be Bop Deluxe,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Martian,
Flash Fearless,
Panda Bear,
Gang of Four,
Chrome,
R.M.O.,
Dennis Brown,
Ronan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Alison Limerick,
Absolute Body Control,
10cc,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Motions,
Bobbi Humphrey,
AZ,
Matthew Halsall,
Fatback Band,
The Associates,
The Divine Comedy,
Harry Pussy,
Marine Girls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sällskapet,
the Slits,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
World's Most,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Gun Club,
Juan Atkins,
The Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Görl,
The Tremeloes,
Q and Not U,
Chris Corsano,
Deepchord,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.