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 Slovenia and from Lille.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Cluster to the punk 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
Mr. Review,
Porter Ricks,
Pierre Henry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Deakin,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Hood,
Blossom Toes,
Yazoo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Spandau Ballet,
The Busters,
Ultravox,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moebius,
Buzzcocks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Young Rascals,
Technova,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Q65,
F. McDonald,
Nas,
Sonic Youth,
Franke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Glenn Branca,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tears for Fears,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joey Negro,
Todd Terry,
Khruangbin,
Youth Brigade,
The American Breed,
Amazonics,
The Raincoats,
Icehouse,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Leaves,
The Trojans,
Don Cherry,
FM Einheit,
Sun City Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Average White Band,
Clear Light,
Bad Manners,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soft Cell,
Dennis Brown,
Deepchord,
Prince Buster,
Desert Stars,
Hoover,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.