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 Kyrgyzstan and from Philadelphia.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Arab on Radar to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Procol Harum,
Newcleus,
Peter & Gordon,
Lyres,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Tremeloes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Interpol,
Howard Jones,
KRS-One,
Warsaw,
Marc Almond,
The Moody Blues,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mission of Burma,
Slick Rick,
Wally Richardson,
John Cale,
Joe Finger,
Von Mondo,
The Offenders,
the Germs,
Grauzone,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jesper Dahlback,
DJ Sneak,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tim Buckley,
Althea and Donna,
Kaleidoscope,
In Retrospect,
Minny Pops,
The Searchers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aaron Thompson,
The Blues Magoos,
Matthew Bourne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Guru Guru,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
Cluster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lightning Bolt,
Eve St. Jones,
Half Japanese,
Circle Jerks,
Porter Ricks,
Warren Ellis,
Anthony Braxton,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
EPMD,
K-Klass,
The Beau Brummels,
Los Fastidios,
Connie Case,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.