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 Montenegro and from Lille.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Stereo Dub to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Sarah Menescal,
cv313,
The Star Department,
Tomorrow,
Lungfish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Vogues,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crooked Eye,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Easy Going,
Eli Mardock,
Moebius,
Duran Duran,
Porter Ricks,
Dawn Penn,
Arab on Radar,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deakin,
Rekid,
Make Up,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Beau Brummels,
Blossom Toes,
David Bowie,
The Gladiators,
Marvin Gaye,
Marine Girls,
Can,
Fat Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Swans,
Prince Buster,
Oneida,
Wolf Eyes,
The Music Machine,
John Cale,
Connie Case,
New Age Steppers,
Jawbox,
Black Flag,
Ten City,
Avey Tare,
Shoche,
AZ,
Aloha Tigers,
Khruangbin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Liliput,
a-ha,
Theoretical Girls,
Fluxion,
Joe Finger,
The Smiths,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alison Limerick,
Severed Heads,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.