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 Argentina and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator 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 Amon Düül II to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bronski Beat,
Barry Ungar,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Basic Channel,
Japan,
The Cure,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crispy Ambulance,
Maurizio,
Buzzcocks,
Freddie Wadling,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Funky Four + One,
Rosa Yemen,
Tomorrow,
Henry Cow,
Leonard Cohen,
Anakelly,
Sister Nancy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Motorama,
Minny Pops,
D'Angelo,
Ultravox,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lower 48,
B.T. Express,
Saccharine Trust,
48th St. Collective,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lindisfarne,
Crooked Eye,
Eric Copeland,
Soft Cell,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arthur Verocai,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
T. Rex,
The Count Five,
Patti Smith,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed,
Warren Ellis,
Drive Like Jehu,
DJ Sneak,
Babytalk,
The Fuzztones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jandek,
The Cramps,
Bauhaus,
EPMD,
The Busters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Quando Quango,
The Happenings,
Judy Mowatt,
Soul II Soul,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.