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 Cuba and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Soul II Soul to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Howard Jones,
John Holt,
Scientists,
Crooked Eye,
Amon Düül II,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Suicide,
The Buckinghams,
Flamin' Groovies,
Prince Buster,
The Cowsills,
The Misunderstood,
EPMD,
Siglo XX,
the Association,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mad Mike,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
B.T. Express,
Rites of Spring,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sonics,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bluetip,
Gong,
Ituana,
Bizarre Inc.,
Juan Atkins,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Techniques,
Godley & Creme,
Groovy Waters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Flag,
Agent Orange,
Stiv Bators,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eden Ahbez,
Al Stewart,
The Gun Club,
Saccharine Trust,
The Knickerbockers,
Glenn Branca,
Icehouse,
Wasted Youth,
The Stooges,
Funkadelic,
Pussy Galore,
Symarip,
Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Severed Heads,
Royal Trux,
The Divine Comedy,
Delta 5,
Cymande,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.