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 Lesotho and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Al Stewart to the jazz 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Sister Nancy,
Magma,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
JFA,
The Black Dice,
Funky Four + One,
Minutemen,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Kinks,
Bush Tetras,
Boz Scaggs,
Pierre Henry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rufus Thomas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arab on Radar,
Kurtis Blow,
CMW,
Junior Murvin,
The Pretty Things,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Skarface,
Matthew Bourne,
The Gladiators,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Basic Channel,
Underground Resistance,
Scientists,
Tom Boy,
Black Moon,
Alphaville,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric Copeland,
The Golliwogs,
Toni Rubio,
Trumans Water,
Juan Atkins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Procol Harum,
John Coltrane,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Names,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Knickerbockers,
Colin Newman,
Dawn Penn,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Wake,
X-102,
Das Ding,
Scratch Acid,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gap Band,
Dark Day,
Marc Almond,
Shuggie Otis,
Laurel Aitken,
Lower 48,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.