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 Mauritania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Monochrome Set to the crunk 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Jesper Dahlback,
The New Christs,
Wally Richardson,
Roxette,
Skriet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
Amon Düül II,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun Ra,
Idris Muhammad,
Talk Talk,
Angry Samoans,
Michelle Simonal,
The Raincoats,
Lyres,
The Residents,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
U.S. Maple,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Bananas,
Altered Images,
Ultravox,
Chris & Cosey,
The Associates,
Flash Fearless,
Thee Headcoats,
The Selecter,
Siglo XX,
DNA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Sheep,
Slave,
Popol Vuh,
Radiohead,
The Star Department,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cure,
The Happenings,
Porter Ricks,
This Heat,
Graham Central Station,
The Moody Blues,
Ponytail,
Sandy B,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moby Grape,
Massinfluence,
The Count Five,
Agitation Free,
Stockholm Monsters,
Funky Four + One,
The Angels of Light,
Dead Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ludus,
Marc Almond,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lebanon Hanover,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.