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 Denmark and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Connie Case to the grunge 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Spandau Ballet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Residents,
Main Source,
L. Decosne,
The Happenings,
Iggy Pop,
The Names,
Ornette Coleman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Loose Ends,
Chris Corsano,
Zero Boys,
Basic Channel,
The Doors,
Danielle Patucci,
X-101,
Jerry's Kids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
These Immortal Souls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Isaac Hayes,
DJ Sneak,
Maurizio,
Scion,
The Index,
The Birthday Party,
Aloha Tigers,
Mantronix,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Archie Shepp,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Interpol,
KRS-One,
Excepter,
Arcadia,
Scan 7,
Harry Pussy,
Kevin Saunderson,
ABC,
The Searchers,
The Cramps,
Metal Thangz,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
June of 44,
In Retrospect,
Andrew Hill,
Jandek,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Television,
Kenny Larkin,
Q and Not U,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Charles Mingus,
Magazine,
Au Pairs,
Nico,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.