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 the UAE and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bad Manners to the electroclash 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Terry Callier,
Black Moon,
Robert Görl,
Fela Kuti,
a-ha,
Dave Gahan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Susan Cadogan,
Public Enemy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jandek,
Deepchord,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
OOIOO,
Anakelly,
Reuben Wilson,
Royal Trux,
Joy Division,
Quadrant,
FM Einheit,
Sun Ra,
The United States of America,
Harry Pussy,
Todd Rundgren,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Section 25,
Al Stewart,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Massinfluence,
Underground Resistance,
Grauzone,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Blues Magoos,
Henry Cow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Grass Roots,
Toni Rubio,
10cc,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Bananas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Faust,
Arthur Verocai,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Leaves,
Youth Brigade,
KRS-One,
Jacques Brel,
The Stooges,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
Crime,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Guru Guru,
Little Man,
Jeff Mills,
Popol Vuh,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.