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 Turkmenistan and from Mexico City.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Beijing.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Public Image Ltd. 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Brass Construction,
Monks,
Sex Pistols,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Byrd,
X-101,
Faust,
The Human League,
Mad Mike,
Howard Jones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Leaves,
Henry Cow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radiohead,
The Tremeloes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Supertramp,
Masters at Work,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sugar Minott,
Charles Mingus,
Fad Gadget,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Wake,
John Foxx,
Little Man,
F. McDonald,
Man Parrish,
Camouflage,
The Pop Group,
Scrapy,
Bob Dylan,
Black Bananas,
Heaven 17,
A Certain Ratio,
The Velvet Underground,
Index,
Pole,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fat Boys,
The Star Department,
DJ Style,
The Saints,
Stetsasonic,
Desert Stars,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ossler,
Ponytail,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lightning Bolt,
Siglo XX,
New Age Steppers,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.