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 Belarus and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Barbara Tucker to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Fire Engines,
the Association,
New Age Steppers,
Dual Sessions,
Arab on Radar,
Mary Jane Girls,
F. McDonald,
Aloha Tigers,
Danielle Patucci,
The Names,
Au Pairs,
Bush Tetras,
the Normal,
Freddie Wadling,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Angels of Light,
Ultravox,
The Techniques,
Gang Gang Dance,
Absolute Body Control,
Letta Mbulu,
Joe Finger,
World's Most,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kurtis Blow,
Robert Hood,
Youth Brigade,
Y Pants,
Section 25,
Duran Duran,
UT,
Television,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dawn Penn,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Moby Grape,
The Martian,
The Smiths,
June Days,
Hoover,
Neu!,
Scientists,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
D'Angelo,
Leonard Cohen,
Yellowson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Curtis Mayfield,
Inner City,
Skaos,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Terry,
The American Breed,
Bob Dylan,
Khruangbin,
The J.B.'s,
Deakin,
Eve St. Jones,
Unwound,
Faraquet,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.