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 Iraq and from Jakarta.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 New Christs to the grunge 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Buzzcocks,
EPMD,
R.M.O.,
Darondo,
Bush Tetras,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Neon Judgement,
Excepter,
Spandau Ballet,
Funkadelic,
Guru Guru,
Bootsy Collins,
the Normal,
Johnny Osbourne,
Easy Going,
Main Source,
Scion,
Whodini,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grey Daturas,
The Victims,
Lou Christie,
Aaron Thompson,
Chris Corsano,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Swans,
Underground Resistance,
China Crisis,
The Kinks,
Crash Course in Science,
Matthew Bourne,
The Birthday Party,
Y Pants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
One Last Wish,
LL Cool J,
Saccharine Trust,
Sun City Girls,
Mark Hollis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
D'Angelo,
Slick Rick,
Slave,
Wolf Eyes,
Porter Ricks,
Bill Wells,
The Sound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Juan Atkins,
Ultravox,
Wally Richardson,
Audionom,
the Sonics,
Loose Ends,
Fela Kuti,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scott Walker,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.