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 Vietnam and from New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Masters at Work to the jazz 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Kurtis Blow,
Motorama,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Davy DMX,
Barbara Tucker,
8 Eyed Spy,
Youth Brigade,
Rites of Spring,
Albert Ayler,
Wolf Eyes,
The Velvet Underground,
Mark Hollis,
Bang On A Can,
Steve Hackett,
Aural Exciters,
Eric Copeland,
The Flesh Eaters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
La Düsseldorf,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Al Stewart,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grey Daturas,
The Residents,
Black Flag,
The Real Kids,
Television,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Normal,
Babytalk,
Bronski Beat,
The Black Dice,
These Immortal Souls,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dirtbombs,
Circle Jerks,
Cluster,
Gabor Szabo,
The Monochrome Set,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Judy Mowatt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ten City,
Mandrill,
Intrusion,
Von Mondo,
Brass Construction,
Marvin Gaye,
The Victims,
The New Christs,
Visage,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Evens,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Fortunes,
The Fugs,
The Electric Prunes,
Sarah Menescal,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.