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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar 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 Gang Green to the dance 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
The Smoke,
June of 44,
The Remains,
Ohio Players,
T. Rex,
The American Breed,
Bluetip,
The Count Five,
Circle Jerks,
Erasure,
T.S.O.L.,
Heaven 17,
Scott Walker,
DJ Style,
The Cowsills,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Certain Ratio,
Minny Pops,
Barrington Levy,
The Fire Engines,
Blossom Toes,
Joyce Sims,
Echospace,
Jesper Dahlback,
Graham Central Station,
Erykah Badu,
Fear,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tomorrow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Al Stewart,
Ronan,
Stetsasonic,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Soft Cell,
Swans,
Ten City,
Archie Shepp,
Eurythmics,
The Victims,
The Birthday Party,
The Divine Comedy,
Magma,
The Mummies,
the Swans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lindisfarne,
Darondo,
The Five Americans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sandy B,
Rod Modell,
John Coltrane,
Q and Not U,
Pet Shop Boys,
Howard Jones,
The Last Poets,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Monolake,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.