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 Samoa and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Circle Jerks to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Joe Finger,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Black Dice,
Khruangbin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Darondo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Christie,
The Pretty Things,
The Dirtbombs,
Massinfluence,
The Seeds,
The Fuzztones,
Moby Grape,
Alice Coltrane,
The Evens,
The Last Poets,
The Cure,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scott Walker,
Rhythm & Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fall,
Dead Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Saccharine Trust,
Echospace,
Donald Byrd,
Japan,
Animal Collective,
Dawn Penn,
Roy Ayers,
Alison Limerick,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joensuu 1685,
Lightning Bolt,
Cymande,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Surgeon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aloha Tigers,
Maurizio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Matthew Halsall,
Fatback Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ten City,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Neil Young,
Crime,
Dark Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-102,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Easy Going,
H. Thieme,
Zapp,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.