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 Kuwait and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 June Days to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
The Moody Blues,
Gabor Szabo,
Barry Ungar,
Ralphi Rosario,
Loose Ends,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cramps,
Dave Gahan,
Moss Icon,
Underground Resistance,
Siglo XX,
Man Parrish,
Urselle,
a-ha,
Brass Construction,
the Germs,
Scrapy,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Grass Roots,
La Düsseldorf,
R.M.O.,
Flash Fearless,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiohead,
Mark Hollis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fugazi,
H. Thieme,
Young Marble Giants,
Audionom,
Sun Ra,
Nick Fraelich,
Ice-T,
Masters at Work,
the Human League,
Peter & Gordon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Popol Vuh,
Junior Murvin,
Anthony Braxton,
Jerry's Kids,
The Count Five,
Joensuu 1685,
Cal Tjader,
Pierre Henry,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cecil Taylor,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Beau Brummels,
Charles Mingus,
Lyres,
Kenny Larkin,
Franke,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tom Boy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter and Kerry,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Association,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.