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 Egypt and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Cheater Slicks 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
The Motions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Radiohead,
Hashim,
Brass Construction,
The American Breed,
Sixth Finger,
Niagra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bill Wells,
Ossler,
Groovy Waters,
Panda Bear,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arthur Verocai,
The Blackbyrds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Zero Boys,
F. McDonald,
cv313,
Livin' Joy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Wake,
Yaz,
Television,
Procol Harum,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nick Fraelich,
Pagans,
Cecil Taylor,
Country Teasers,
Ice-T,
Smog,
Marvin Gaye,
Eli Mardock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Parry Music,
The Associates,
Lou Reed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Busters,
Pantytec,
Lou Christie,
Anthony Braxton,
Maleditus Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mr. Review,
The Gories,
Oblivians,
Unwound,
Nik Kershaw,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scrapy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Khruangbin,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.