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 South Africa and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the dance 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Grauzone,
Danielle Patucci,
Toni Rubio,
New York Dolls,
The Stooges,
The Young Rascals,
Black Bananas,
John Cale,
Gang of Four,
The Vogues,
The Kinks,
Skriet,
Siglo XX,
The Martian,
The Cowsills,
Alice Coltrane,
Wings,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bob Dylan,
Bill Wells,
Kayak,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joey Negro,
Harpers Bizarre,
B.T. Express,
Harry Pussy,
Glenn Branca,
Fluxion,
Robert Wyatt,
Susan Cadogan,
The Evens,
Pere Ubu,
Byron Stingily,
One Last Wish,
Carl Craig,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Whodini,
Quando Quango,
Jacques Brel,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Y Pants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minny Pops,
Stiv Bators,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Busters,
The Smiths,
The Music Machine,
Gong,
Ossler,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Visage,
The Names,
Sixth Finger,
Marc Almond,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.