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 Cameroon and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Move to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cecil Taylor,
June of 44,
8 Eyed Spy,
Index,
UT,
Stereo Dub,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moby Grape,
Throbbing Gristle,
Vladislav Delay,
Franke,
Marc Almond,
Supertramp,
Josef K,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Count Five,
Hardrive,
Sister Nancy,
Pagans,
Prince Buster,
Swans,
Organ,
Magazine,
The Gap Band,
Simply Red,
Jeff Lynne,
Ossler,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wings,
Man Parrish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Arab on Radar,
Infiniti,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marvin Gaye,
The Offenders,
The Modern Lovers,
Whodini,
Ponytail,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marmalade,
The Neon Judgement,
Buzzcocks,
Minnie Riperton,
Smog,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fear,
Yazoo,
The Monks,
Bobby Byrd,
X-101,
Oblivians,
Joy Division,
Piero Umiliani,
Youth Brigade,
Susan Cadogan,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.