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 Italy and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Goldenarms to the disco 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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bizarre Inc.,
Leonard Cohen,
Ken Boothe,
the Germs,
Laurel Aitken,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Soft Cell,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fire Engines,
Godley & Creme,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gun Club,
Angry Samoans,
Jesper Dahlback,
JFA,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jawbox,
Nas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smoke,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pere Ubu,
The Real Kids,
Hoover,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Whodini,
Fatback Band,
R.M.O.,
Anthony Braxton,
The Moleskins,
Anakelly,
Mr. Review,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blake Baxter,
10cc,
T.S.O.L.,
Ralphi Rosario,
Motorama,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Banda Bassotti,
The Blues Magoos,
The Pretty Things,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bill Wells,
Warsaw,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Bowie,
The Cowsills,
Electric Prunes,
Scientists,
Inner City,
The Durutti Column,
Pagans,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.