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 Micronesia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Bill Wells to the electroclash 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tears for Fears,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Easy Going,
Stetsasonic,
The Smoke,
Model 500,
Al Stewart,
the Association,
Yaz,
Eric B and Rakim,
The United States of America,
Man Parrish,
Gong,
Deadbeat,
Peter & Gordon,
James White and The Blacks,
Massinfluence,
Yusef Lateef,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Swans,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cure,
Mo-Dettes,
Pulsallama,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Cale,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dead C,
Cymande,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jeff Lynne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alphaville,
Moebius,
Letta Mbulu,
Ponytail,
John Lydon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bluetip,
Johnny Clarke,
The Walker Brothers,
Fatback Band,
LL Cool J,
Barry Ungar,
Todd Terry,
Ralphi Rosario,
Adolescents,
Sex Pistols,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
La Düsseldorf,
Hashim,
Supertramp,
Minor Threat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hoover,
The Fire Engines,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.