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 Australia and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the rock 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Motorama,
Technova,
Mad Mike,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Supertramp,
Todd Rundgren,
Angry Samoans,
Rosa Yemen,
David McCallum,
Slick Rick,
Gabor Szabo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Slits,
The Mojo Men,
Dual Sessions,
Steve Hackett,
The Wake,
Fat Boys,
Jawbox,
The Beau Brummels,
Yusef Lateef,
Quantec,
Kenny Larkin,
Cheater Slicks,
Scratch Acid,
The Real Kids,
Marcia Griffiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Bananas,
The Neon Judgement,
Godley & Creme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
AZ,
Audionom,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gap Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Glenn Branca,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Foxx,
Toni Rubio,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Accadde A,
Grey Daturas,
Gichy Dan,
Alphaville,
Gang Gang Dance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Standells,
Main Source,
Newcleus,
Eden Ahbez,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.