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 Mozambique and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Peter and Kerry to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Moebius,
The Mummies,
The Martian,
Bobby Byrd,
Chrome,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Camouflage,
Heaven 17,
Barbara Tucker,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brick,
Japan,
Graham Central Station,
Eric Dolphy,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Cramps,
Hot Snakes,
Roger Hodgson,
The Litter,
The Searchers,
The Fire Engines,
Howard Jones,
Suburban Knight,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Todd Terry,
Thompson Twins,
Au Pairs,
Matthew Bourne,
Niagra,
Crispian St. Peters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Average White Band,
The Red Krayola,
Erasure,
Surgeon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Angry Samoans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Association,
Fatback Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Oblivians,
The Associates,
Blossom Toes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smoke,
Drive Like Jehu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The United States of America,
the Soft Cell,
Nils Olav,
Juan Atkins,
Fat Boys,
Marvin Gaye,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.