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 Philippines and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Robert Wyatt to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Flash Fearless,
John Foxx,
Eric Copeland,
Delon & Dalcan,
Intrusion,
Morten Harket,
Sister Nancy,
Stereo Dub,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fugs,
Harry Pussy,
Peter and Kerry,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Blues Magoos,
Crime,
The Alarm Clocks,
Easy Going,
David McCallum,
Drexciya,
The Black Dice,
The Grass Roots,
Max Romeo,
Ultra Naté,
The Trojans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
David Bowie,
The Zeros,
Rekid,
Toni Rubio,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Massinfluence,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
B.T. Express,
Pole,
Robert Görl,
Tubeway Army,
The Offenders,
Brass Construction,
Roy Ayers,
Magma,
Aloha Tigers,
Amon Düül,
Echospace,
Sugar Minott,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Prunes,
Theoretical Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Cale,
Robert Hood,
Moss Icon,
DJ Style,
The Happenings,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gun Club,
New Order,
Camberwell Now,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.