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 Nepal and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Roxy Music to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Josef K,
Sun Ra,
Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare,
Zapp,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Amon Düül II,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Lungfish,
Malaria!,
Scott Walker,
the Association,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skarface,
The Count Five,
Pantaleimon,
Neil Young,
Cymande,
Erykah Badu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Godley & Creme,
Das Ding,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Camouflage,
Oblivians,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Human League,
Crime,
Archie Shepp,
The Wake,
Lou Reed,
Eddi Front,
Alphaville,
Funkadelic,
James White and The Blacks,
Marine Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Althea and Donna,
Lucky Dragons,
T. Rex,
Skriet,
Morten Harket,
Stetsasonic,
Graham Central Station,
Mr. Review,
The Victims,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Evens,
Rites of Spring,
Erasure,
Camberwell Now,
The Sonics,
Visage,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.