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 Malta and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ornette Coleman to the electroclash 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Andrew Hill,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pierre Henry,
The Tremeloes,
Adolescents,
Country Teasers,
The Real Kids,
Flipper,
Goldenarms,
Roxy Music,
The Electric Prunes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
DJ Sneak,
Pussy Galore,
Amon Düül,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aloha Tigers,
EPMD,
Letta Mbulu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Sonics,
Roxette,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eurythmics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Albert Ayler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Victims,
Rekid,
UT,
Bob Dylan,
Mission of Burma,
Intrusion,
Heaven 17,
Maurizio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Clear Light,
The Gladiators,
The Angels of Light,
The Star Department,
Hot Snakes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
L. Decosne,
Crash Course in Science,
The Buckinghams,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Association,
Marmalade,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Glenn Branca,
Blossom Toes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flash Fearless,
Easy Going,
Maleditus Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.