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 Iraq and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Red Krayola to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Flash Fearless,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lyres,
Lalann,
Matthew Bourne,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minor Threat,
Gang Starr,
Gang Green,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gun Club,
The Victims,
Adolescents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Electric Prunes,
Sarah Menescal,
Arab on Radar,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mark Hollis,
Banda Bassotti,
Moby Grape,
The Doors,
Faraquet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camberwell Now,
Quantec,
Spoonie Gee,
Groovy Waters,
Parry Music,
Pere Ubu,
The Index,
Man Eating Sloth,
Charles Mingus,
Ponytail,
Urselle,
Flamin' Groovies,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Skaos,
Sparks,
James White and The Blacks,
Skriet,
X-101,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barclay James Harvest,
The New Christs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marine Girls,
Drexciya,
Glenn Branca,
Yellowson,
Neil Young,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Association,
The Monks,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.