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 Afghanistan and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Main Source to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Hardrive,
L. Decosne,
Adolescents,
The Cowsills,
John Cale,
Make Up,
Saccharine Trust,
Organ,
John Lydon,
Swell Maps,
Stiv Bators,
The Kinks,
Easy Going,
June Days,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The American Breed,
The Misunderstood,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ludus,
Moby Grape,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amon Düül,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
ABBA,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Arab on Radar,
Drive Like Jehu,
Surgeon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Spoonie Gee,
Circle Jerks,
Tres Demented,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tommy Roe,
Ultimate Spinach,
Terry Callier,
Altered Images,
Radiohead,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Bar-Kays,
The Martian,
Slick Rick,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The United States of America,
Lyres,
Mark Hollis,
Whodini,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
AZ,
Parry Music,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Laurel Aitken,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sight & Sound,
Animal Collective,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lindisfarne,
Youth Brigade,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eli Mardock,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.