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 Kazakhstan and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pet Shop Boys to the crunk 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Dawn Penn,
Deepchord,
Marine Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
The Busters,
Radiohead,
Rufus Thomas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scan 7,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ken Boothe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mark Hollis,
The Angels of Light,
The Standells,
ABC,
Loose Ends,
The Slackers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
New Order,
Siglo XX,
Electric Prunes,
The Saints,
Godley & Creme,
U.S. Maple,
Cameo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
UT,
Judy Mowatt,
Pussy Galore,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Robert Hood,
Gichy Dan,
The Fortunes,
Radio Birdman,
Fela Kuti,
T. Rex,
Talk Talk,
Minor Threat,
The Seeds,
8 Eyed Spy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Technova,
Niagra,
the Slits,
The Doobie Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
Liliput,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Sonics,
Albert Ayler,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aaron Thompson,
Babytalk,
the Normal,
Ultravox,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.