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 Uzbekistan and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Danielle Patucci to the techno 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Silicon Teens,
The Flesh Eaters,
Glenn Branca,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pierre Henry,
Joyce Sims,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
T. Rex,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lakeside,
Crooked Eye,
Young Marble Giants,
Scan 7,
Bad Manners,
Scrapy,
The Fall,
Judy Mowatt,
Deadbeat,
Agent Orange,
Blancmange,
Yaz,
Boredoms,
Swans,
Derrick Morgan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dawn Penn,
Harmonia,
Pantaleimon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Slick Rick,
The Victims,
Graham Central Station,
Godley & Creme,
Tres Demented,
New Order,
Mission of Burma,
Juan Atkins,
Crash Course in Science,
Tom Boy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Shoche,
Jeff Mills,
ABC,
Japan,
Pulsallama,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra,
The Stooges,
Johnny Clarke,
Ossler,
Dennis Brown,
China Crisis,
Buzzcocks,
Intrusion,
Tubeway Army,
Cal Tjader,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kas Product,
Ten City,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.