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 Saudi Arabia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Halifax.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the techno 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Subhumans,
Schoolly D,
Ken Boothe,
Au Pairs,
X-Ray Spex,
Johnny Clarke,
Los Fastidios,
The Sonics,
Connie Case,
Kool Moe Dee,
48th St. Collective,
The Divine Comedy,
Tears for Fears,
Pantaleimon,
Bill Near,
Howard Jones,
Surgeon,
Wally Richardson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Popol Vuh,
In Retrospect,
the Swans,
Laurel Aitken,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angry Samoans,
The Cramps,
Terry Callier,
Lower 48,
Interpol,
The Mojo Men,
Ultra Naté,
Q and Not U,
The Barracudas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
R.M.O.,
Roxette,
Don Cherry,
Iggy Pop,
Von Mondo,
Dead Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
Kaleidoscope,
Malaria!,
Absolute Body Control,
Wings,
Sex Pistols,
Roy Ayers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scratch Acid,
Barbara Tucker,
Jeff Lynne,
Talk Talk,
Aaron Thompson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Reuben Wilson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Young Marble Giants,
Lightning Bolt,
Scott Walker,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.