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 Slovakia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Pere Ubu to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
The Busters,
Terry Callier,
New York Dolls,
The Fuzztones,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Barracudas,
Joe Smooth,
The Cowsills,
Subhumans,
Lower 48,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Standells,
Sam Rivers,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Bananas,
Ohio Players,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Duran Duran,
The Fall,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fort Wilson Riot,
David Bowie,
New Order,
Glambeats Corp.,
Man Parrish,
T. Rex,
Massinfluence,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Residents,
Rod Modell,
Tubeway Army,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amon Düül,
Charles Mingus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Half Japanese,
Chris & Cosey,
Depeche Mode,
Nils Olav,
Black Flag,
The Neon Judgement,
Terrestrial Tones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Golliwogs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Heaven 17,
Faraquet,
The Red Krayola,
Panda Bear,
Sarah Menescal,
Gastr Del Sol,
Skarface,
Erykah Badu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Guru Guru,
Hasil Adkins,
Hardrive,
Fluxion,
Alison Limerick,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.