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 Thailand and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sun City Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Main Source,
Magazine,
Severed Heads,
Bluetip,
Big Daddy Kane,
Max Romeo,
Yellowson,
Chris & Cosey,
Avey Tare,
T.S.O.L.,
Tom Boy,
Wally Richardson,
The Vogues,
Roxette,
Drexciya,
Ossler,
The Mojo Men,
L. Decosne,
Sugar Minott,
Camouflage,
Qualms,
Metal Thangz,
Arab on Radar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flash Fearless,
The American Breed,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
June Days,
Quadrant,
Sun Ra,
Eli Mardock,
Television,
Minny Pops,
Toni Rubio,
Heaven 17,
Eve St. Jones,
The Invisible,
Trumans Water,
Patti Smith,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June of 44,
Quando Quango,
Fugazi,
Kaleidoscope,
Joyce Sims,
Faust,
F. McDonald,
Rosa Yemen,
Delta 5,
K-Klass,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cybotron,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bob Dylan,
Blancmange,
U.S. Maple,
The Red Krayola,
Steve Hackett,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.