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 Iraq and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 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 The J.B.'s to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Grauzone,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nick Fraelich,
Con Funk Shun,
Steve Hackett,
Maurizio,
Man Parrish,
Amazonics,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Derrick May,
Howard Jones,
Kenny Larkin,
Juan Atkins,
Skriet,
Suicide,
Eddi Front,
OOIOO,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bootsy Collins,
Urselle,
June of 44,
Whodini,
cv313,
The Fortunes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultravox,
H. Thieme,
The Golliwogs,
Lightning Bolt,
The Doors,
Matthew Bourne,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Archie Shepp,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Raincoats,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kayak,
Ohio Players,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Johnny Clarke,
Visage,
Tubeway Army,
Erasure,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Litter,
Hoover,
Henry Cow,
Cal Tjader,
Kas Product,
The Neon Judgement,
John Lydon,
Rufus Thomas,
Gang Starr,
Vainqueur,
Reuben Wilson,
Derrick Morgan,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.