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 Japan and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin 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 Michelle Simonal to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Invisible,
Black Moon,
Kurtis Blow,
Todd Terry,
The Pop Group,
Donald Byrd,
Surgeon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Flag,
Marc Almond,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Marmalade,
The Martian,
Soft Cell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pere Ubu,
Jerry's Kids,
The Wake,
The Stooges,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Monks,
Pagans,
The Black Dice,
Black Bananas,
Au Pairs,
Cybotron,
Pharoah Sanders,
Susan Cadogan,
Excepter,
Danielle Patucci,
Brass Construction,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kool Moe Dee,
Matthew Bourne,
Quando Quango,
Pylon,
Buzzcocks,
Jeff Mills,
The Misunderstood,
David McCallum,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Panda Bear,
The Durutti Column,
The Techniques,
The Five Americans,
the Swans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Camberwell Now,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Average White Band,
Swans,
The Smiths,
Kas Product,
The Doors,
the Normal,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joy Division,
John Coltrane,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.