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 Saudi Arabia and from Taipei.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the grunge 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
The Cure,
Skriet,
The Golliwogs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Trojans,
Public Enemy,
The Young Rascals,
Main Source,
Alphaville,
Loose Ends,
Newcleus,
Sparks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacob Miller,
Roxette,
Niagra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pantaleimon,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Pus,
Alice Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Fatback Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Grauzone,
Arab on Radar,
Interpol,
OOIOO,
Ohio Players,
Al Stewart,
KRS-One,
Das Ding,
Grey Daturas,
Archie Shepp,
Moby Grape,
Unwound,
Robert Hood,
ABBA,
Chrome,
The Angels of Light,
Surgeon,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Standells,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wasted Youth,
Kenny Larkin,
John Cale,
Johnny Clarke,
Todd Terry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Graham Central Station,
The Litter,
Freddie Wadling,
Swans,
Idris Muhammad,
Tommy Roe,
The Human League,
Colin Newman,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.