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 Macedonia and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb 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 The Litter to the punk 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Big Daddy Kane,
Shoche,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Tremeloes,
The Victims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dark Day,
Brothers Johnson,
Jacques Brel,
Monolake,
June Days,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Marmalade,
48th St. Collective,
The Sound,
Little Man,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Real Kids,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marcia Griffiths,
Excepter,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ossler,
Basic Channel,
Mandrill,
the Soft Cell,
X-101,
The J.B.'s,
The Saints,
Bootsy Collins,
Patti Smith,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quantec,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fortunes,
Franke,
The New Christs,
Underground Resistance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Leonard Cohen,
Barry Ungar,
Pussy Galore,
Simply Red,
Charles Mingus,
Section 25,
Wolf Eyes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
PIL,
Lower 48,
Sixth Finger,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Wake,
Parry Music,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.