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 United States 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Starr to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Monks,
Jacob Miller,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Howard Jones,
Youth Brigade,
Moss Icon,
Severed Heads,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
The Searchers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eric Copeland,
Eve St. Jones,
Robert Hood,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
John Foxx,
Pere Ubu,
Max Romeo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Morten Harket,
Marcia Griffiths,
Malaria!,
Barbara Tucker,
The Trojans,
Tubeway Army,
Warren Ellis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Barry Ungar,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nico,
Scion,
Monolake,
Television Personalities,
The J.B.'s,
The Techniques,
Lakeside,
Maleditus Sound,
Cal Tjader,
The Beau Brummels,
Rod Modell,
Theoretical Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scrapy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dawn Penn,
Sällskapet,
ABC,
Mary Jane Girls,
Davy DMX,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Leonard Cohen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bootsy Collins,
Cameo,
Derrick Morgan,
The Names,
Quadrant,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.