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 Chile and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the rock 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Dead C,
Roxy Music,
Curtis Mayfield,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Funky Four + One,
Lucky Dragons,
Faust,
Faraquet,
The Invisible,
Man Eating Sloth,
In Retrospect,
Fat Boys,
Howard Jones,
Fugazi,
Freddie Wadling,
Underground Resistance,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Monks,
The Cure,
DNA,
Slave,
Dual Sessions,
The Smiths,
Swans,
Bang On A Can,
Zapp,
Jandek,
Camouflage,
Black Sheep,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lalann,
Liliput,
Alton Ellis,
The Martian,
Piero Umiliani,
Minutemen,
Pantytec,
Sight & Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang of Four,
The Blackbyrds,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Stiv Bators,
X-101,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Glenn Branca,
LL Cool J,
Ultra Naté,
Wasted Youth,
Marc Almond,
Ralphi Rosario,
Aloha Tigers,
Visage,
Oblivians,
Eli Mardock,
Cymande,
Icehouse,
Yazoo,
Average White Band,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.