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 Korea South and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Reagan Youth to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Johnny Clarke,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Birthday Party,
The Trojans,
Alton Ellis,
Marvin Gaye,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oblivians,
Warsaw,
Matthew Halsall,
Rakim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Holt,
Eddi Front,
Bush Tetras,
Blancmange,
Henry Cow,
The Electric Prunes,
The Saints,
Eurythmics,
Janne Schatter,
Mission of Burma,
Lebanon Hanover,
Organ,
Pulsallama,
Mars,
The Kinks,
Gabor Szabo,
Brand Nubian,
The Wake,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Josef K,
Skarface,
Jeff Mills,
Scratch Acid,
Rufus Thomas,
Lalann,
The Martian,
Glenn Branca,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sixth Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moebius,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Smoke,
U.S. Maple,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Deakin,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joey Negro,
Average White Band,
Radiohead,
Panda Bear,
James White and The Blacks,
Parry Music,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brick,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.