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 Philippines and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 David Bowie 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 Lucky Dragons to the crunk 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord 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 rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
the Germs,
Television,
Heaven 17,
Amon Düül II,
David Bowie,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Wyatt,
Howard Jones,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Beau Brummels,
Scan 7,
Inner City,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aural Exciters,
Rites of Spring,
Robert Hood,
The Dead C,
Crime,
Fluxion,
Lower 48,
Magazine,
Wasted Youth,
Slick Rick,
Maleditus Sound,
LL Cool J,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Byron Stingily,
Tres Demented,
Guru Guru,
DNA,
Bootsy Collins,
Tubeway Army,
Soft Cell,
Lalo Schifrin,
F. McDonald,
Half Japanese,
OOIOO,
Lindisfarne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scientists,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Y Pants,
The Barracudas,
Cal Tjader,
Camberwell Now,
Smog,
The Invisible,
Altered Images,
Silicon Teens,
Qualms,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cybotron,
MDC,
Scott Walker,
China Crisis,
Blancmange,
The Gories,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.