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 Kyrgyzstan and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Saints to the dance 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Stooges,
The Alarm Clocks,
Groovy Waters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
One Last Wish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Colin Newman,
Glenn Branca,
Faraquet,
The Vogues,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Man Parrish,
Desert Stars,
DNA,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hashim,
The Cure,
The Fortunes,
Eve St. Jones,
The Golliwogs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hardrive,
Rufus Thomas,
Public Enemy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Electric Prunes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ituana,
The Names,
Bauhaus,
Hasil Adkins,
Excepter,
The Raincoats,
Stockholm Monsters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Royal Trux,
The Fugs,
Qualms,
Wings,
Moss Icon,
Kas Product,
Quadrant,
Gang of Four,
Warren Ellis,
The Walker Brothers,
a-ha,
Mo-Dettes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Steve Hackett,
Laurel Aitken,
Camouflage,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.