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 Jamaica and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 John Lydon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Rites of Spring,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arcadia,
Black Pus,
Animal Collective,
Whodini,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Skatalites,
F. McDonald,
The Slackers,
Brass Construction,
DNA,
The Martian,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare,
Soft Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
Graham Central Station,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Gap Band,
ABBA,
Ituana,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Outsiders,
Wings,
Letta Mbulu,
the Swans,
the Germs,
Minutemen,
Porter Ricks,
Black Moon,
Shoche,
Y Pants,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stiv Bators,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marc Almond,
DJ Sneak,
Sandy B,
Patti Smith,
Qualms,
Sex Pistols,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mo-Dettes,
Janne Schatter,
Technova,
The Pretty Things,
Crime,
Interpol,
Newcleus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scan 7,
Al Stewart,
Wolf Eyes,
Chris Corsano,
Trumans Water,
The Kinks,
FM Einheit,
The Fugs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.