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 Ecuador 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rock 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Skaos,
Yellowson,
Das Ding,
The Misunderstood,
Al Stewart,
Excepter,
The Move,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flash Fearless,
Stiv Bators,
kango's stein massive,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ultravox,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Guru Guru,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Byron Stingily,
MC5,
Avey Tare,
Graham Central Station,
Liliput,
The Cramps,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magma,
The Barracudas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Section 25,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blossom Toes,
Sister Nancy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Flag,
Eden Ahbez,
Crooked Eye,
The Angels of Light,
Janne Schatter,
The Electric Prunes,
Gang of Four,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Q65,
Echospace,
The Walker Brothers,
Zapp,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marine Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Leonard Cohen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
China Crisis,
Jandek,
Visage,
Ronnie Foster,
Neu!,
The Fall,
The Smoke,
Rekid,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.