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 Kosovo and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Nick Fraelich to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Bad Manners,
Camberwell Now,
the Association,
Buzzcocks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angry Samoans,
Rapeman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sight & Sound,
Nirvana,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Erasure,
Mo-Dettes,
EPMD,
LL Cool J,
Tomorrow,
Bluetip,
Ornette Coleman,
Das Ding,
ABC,
Pere Ubu,
Tears for Fears,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amazonics,
The Red Krayola,
Joey Negro,
Scan 7,
Pantytec,
The Durutti Column,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Stetsasonic,
Blossom Toes,
The American Breed,
Joy Division,
Albert Ayler,
Visage,
Groovy Waters,
Mr. Review,
John Foxx,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dual Sessions,
Aswad,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Depeche Mode,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers,
Swell Maps,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Sheep,
Subhumans,
Avey Tare,
Henry Cow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.