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 Bangladesh and from Bremen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Misunderstood 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Qualms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Kerrie Biddell,
T.S.O.L.,
Jeff Lynne,
Niagra,
Fat Boys,
Ice-T,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jandek,
Joe Smooth,
Urselle,
Jerry's Kids,
Suburban Knight,
Johnny Clarke,
Bluetip,
The Last Poets,
Jimmy McGriff,
Deadbeat,
Jeff Mills,
Visage,
Donald Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Amon Düül,
The Pretty Things,
The Smoke,
Babytalk,
The Remains,
The Five Americans,
Radio Birdman,
The Sonics,
Sandy B,
Crash Course in Science,
Delta 5,
Josef K,
kango's stein massive,
Cymande,
Sun City Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Harmonia,
Depeche Mode,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cybotron,
La Düsseldorf,
Scion,
Man Parrish,
Derrick Morgan,
Bill Wells,
Nas,
Panda Bear,
Monks,
The Moody Blues,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Music Machine,
John Foxx,
Trumans Water,
The Mummies,
Peter and Kerry,
the Normal,
OOIOO,
Stetsasonic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed,
Public Enemy,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.