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 Moldova and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rites of Spring to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Deadbeat,
Stereo Dub,
Cymande,
Joensuu 1685,
These Immortal Souls,
Gong,
Harmonia,
Depeche Mode,
The Evens,
Kayak,
KRS-One,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
CMW,
The United States of America,
Barrington Levy,
Pole,
Television Personalities,
Sun City Girls,
Skriet,
the Sonics,
Morten Harket,
the Bar-Kays,
Boz Scaggs,
Charles Mingus,
Terry Callier,
Ronnie Foster,
Basic Channel,
The Birthday Party,
Grey Daturas,
Alphaville,
Eric Copeland,
Main Source,
Donny Hathaway,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Sound,
The Residents,
Bush Tetras,
Peter and Kerry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hot Snakes,
Public Enemy,
The Standells,
Porter Ricks,
The Slackers,
Fatback Band,
Crash Course in Science,
The Velvet Underground,
The Smiths,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fall,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Erykah Badu,
Parry Music,
Accadde A,
Ponytail,
Moebius,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rapeman,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.