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 Sri Lanka and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Index,
Derrick Morgan,
L. Decosne,
China Crisis,
Desert Stars,
Yellowson,
Roy Ayers,
The Mojo Men,
Sun Ra,
DNA,
Joe Smooth,
Jacob Miller,
KRS-One,
Negative Approach,
Mo-Dettes,
Chris & Cosey,
Eric Copeland,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Skatalites,
Flipper,
Gabor Szabo,
Sixth Finger,
kango's stein massive,
La Düsseldorf,
Joy Division,
Absolute Body Control,
Al Stewart,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dual Sessions,
Nico,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delta 5,
In Retrospect,
Tim Buckley,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Invisible,
Von Mondo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Blancmange,
Johnny Clarke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sandy B,
D'Angelo,
Arcadia,
Blake Baxter,
Eli Mardock,
Silicon Teens,
Michelle Simonal,
Dawn Penn,
Black Flag,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Deakin,
Matthew Bourne,
The Divine Comedy,
Crash Course in Science,
Terry Callier,
Iggy Pop,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.