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 Costa Rica and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Procol Harum to the electroclash 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
The American Breed,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Groovy Waters,
Ultravox,
Wally Richardson,
Schoolly D,
Buzzcocks,
Dead Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mark Hollis,
Au Pairs,
cv313,
the Association,
La Düsseldorf,
Bluetip,
Agent Orange,
The Tremeloes,
John Holt,
Los Fastidios,
Spandau Ballet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fall,
Erasure,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Simply Red,
Lakeside,
Brothers Johnson,
Minnie Riperton,
The Raincoats,
Surgeon,
Black Bananas,
L. Decosne,
Theoretical Girls,
The Last Poets,
CMW,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Crooked Eye,
F. McDonald,
Smog,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flipper,
The Divine Comedy,
Howard Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
Nick Fraelich,
The Move,
Sound Behaviour,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nils Olav,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Roy Ayers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jawbox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.