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 Antigua and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Sun City Girls,
kango's stein massive,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jandek,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
L. Decosne,
Mad Mike,
Radiopuhelimet,
Smog,
The Young Rascals,
Sarah Menescal,
Grey Daturas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Albert Ayler,
Flash Fearless,
Unrelated Segments,
Rekid,
Audionom,
Urselle,
The Techniques,
Fad Gadget,
Zero Boys,
Heaven 17,
Kayak,
Groovy Waters,
The Neon Judgement,
Soulsonic Force,
Liliput,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Essential Logic,
Unwound,
Connie Case,
Echospace,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eddi Front,
Joey Negro,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Godley & Creme,
U.S. Maple,
Pantaleimon,
48th St. Collective,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Can,
Country Teasers,
The Martian,
Mandrill,
Oblivians,
Rakim,
Pagans,
Hoover,
E-Dancer,
The Birthday Party,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Smoke,
Half Japanese,
The Monks,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.