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 Tajikistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 New York Dolls to the dance 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Hood,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Television Personalities,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fortunes,
Skriet,
Guru Guru,
Sight & Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
CMW,
The Cure,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roy Ayers,
The Skatalites,
Charles Mingus,
Aloha Tigers,
Freddie Wadling,
Ronnie Foster,
The Offenders,
Rapeman,
Rod Modell,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Josef K,
Reagan Youth,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Red Krayola,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fall,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cheater Slicks,
Brand Nubian,
Tim Buckley,
The Barracudas,
FM Einheit,
Maurizio,
Ponytail,
Blancmange,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Malaria!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Albert Ayler,
John Lydon,
John Cale,
Depeche Mode,
Spoonie Gee,
Tears for Fears,
Tres Demented,
Quantec,
Brothers Johnson,
Masters at Work,
Clear Light,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Vogues,
Dorothy Ashby,
Zapp,
The Human League,
The Monks,
OOIOO,
the Association,
The Young Rascals,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.