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 Georgia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 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 New York Dolls to the grime 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Wire,
Magma,
ABC,
Sex Pistols,
Tubeway Army,
Tommy Roe,
These Immortal Souls,
The Remains,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amazonics,
Technova,
The Evens,
Duran Duran,
John Cale,
Porter Ricks,
Sam Rivers,
Niagra,
Rufus Thomas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DNA,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Monolake,
Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Neon Judgement,
Eurythmics,
F. McDonald,
The Flesh Eaters,
Motorama,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quando Quango,
Pulsallama,
Aswad,
The Doors,
Panda Bear,
Stereo Dub,
Arab on Radar,
Iggy Pop,
Sonic Youth,
The Wake,
Lightning Bolt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Depeche Mode,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Chrome,
Ossler,
Khruangbin,
Yaz,
DJ Style,
Pole,
Excepter,
The Durutti Column,
Sound Behaviour,
Joyce Sims,
The Pretty Things,
48th St. Collective,
Scratch Acid,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.