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 South Africa and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Roy Ayers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Pierre Henry,
Sixth Finger,
The Human League,
DNA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Fania All-Stars,
Freddie Wadling,
Rapeman,
China Crisis,
Rufus Thomas,
Zapp,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pylon,
The Cowsills,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jeff Mills,
Sister Nancy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marine Girls,
One Last Wish,
Blake Baxter,
The Mojo Men,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Moss Icon,
X-101,
The Moleskins,
Wally Richardson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Carl Craig,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Motions,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kas Product,
Harry Pussy,
June of 44,
Stiv Bators,
Marc Almond,
Jandek,
Roger Hodgson,
Connie Case,
Accadde A,
Neu!,
Radiohead,
Ronan,
The Smoke,
The Modern Lovers,
Patti Smith,
Au Pairs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Alison Limerick,
Infiniti,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eden Ahbez,
Mars,
Jacob Miller,
Bronski Beat,
Royal Trux,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.