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 Kiribati and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nas to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Wolf Eyes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Niagra,
H. Thieme,
Flipper,
Sandy B,
the Bar-Kays,
Deepchord,
OOIOO,
Steve Hackett,
Terrestrial Tones,
Derrick May,
Minny Pops,
The Smiths,
Siglo XX,
John Foxx,
KRS-One,
B.T. Express,
Eli Mardock,
Tomorrow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Gang Dance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Bowie,
AZ,
Juan Atkins,
Silicon Teens,
Animal Collective,
the Fania All-Stars,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Buckinghams,
Adolescents,
Sex Pistols,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultravox,
Gang Green,
Sister Nancy,
Todd Rundgren,
Harry Pussy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rufus Thomas,
New Order,
Leonard Cohen,
The Black Dice,
The Gun Club,
EPMD,
Marc Almond,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fuzztones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soul II Soul,
Duran Duran,
Carl Craig,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Anakelly,
John Lydon,
Blossom Toes,
Soft Cell,
Terry Callier,
Magazine,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.