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 Liberia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Q and Not U,
The Searchers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slits,
Thee Headcoats,
Barbara Tucker,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Harmonia,
Eddi Front,
The Blackbyrds,
Wasted Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
These Immortal Souls,
The Toasters,
Anakelly,
The Cramps,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cure,
Heaven 17,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Infiniti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Make Up,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Barracudas,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Graham Central Station,
The Saints,
Spandau Ballet,
Bad Manners,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric Copeland,
a-ha,
Don Cherry,
The Fortunes,
Dennis Brown,
Moss Icon,
The Kinks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Harry Pussy,
Eden Ahbez,
Ralphi Rosario,
Smog,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minor Threat,
Soft Machine,
New Age Steppers,
Little Man,
Sixth Finger,
Prince Buster,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joyce Sims,
The Beau Brummels,
Khruangbin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alphaville,
Main Source,
Tears for Fears,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.