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 Slovakia and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Marine Girls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
The Remains,
Oneida,
Guru Guru,
Bill Near,
Sight & Sound,
New York Dolls,
Lungfish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roxy Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
X-101,
Buzzcocks,
The Monochrome Set,
Pantaleimon,
Toni Rubio,
In Retrospect,
Soft Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barry Ungar,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joe Smooth,
Don Cherry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lucky Dragons,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cybotron,
Lou Reed,
Bronski Beat,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eric Dolphy,
Minor Threat,
Warsaw,
Cymande,
Sam Rivers,
Soulsonic Force,
Wasted Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
Severed Heads,
The Saints,
Qualms,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Leonard Cohen,
Lee Hazlewood,
Khruangbin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
K-Klass,
Gang Green,
Electric Prunes,
The Blackbyrds,
Donald Byrd,
Matthew Halsall,
Junior Murvin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sandy B,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
T. Rex,
Tropical Tobacco,
T.S.O.L.,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.