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 Costa Rica and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Busters to the techno 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
The Martian,
Tim Buckley,
Mandrill,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barrington Levy,
Jeff Lynne,
The Beau Brummels,
Severed Heads,
The Gun Club,
The Stooges,
Sound Behaviour,
Cal Tjader,
Roy Ayers,
Tears for Fears,
Pantytec,
The Residents,
AZ,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Invisible,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bob Dylan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fela Kuti,
Skaos,
Con Funk Shun,
Swell Maps,
Bang On A Can,
Brothers Johnson,
The Index,
Bootsy Collins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Japan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Gories,
Electric Prunes,
Franke,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Howard Jones,
Arab on Radar,
The Busters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mad Mike,
Hot Snakes,
Nico,
JFA,
Dave Gahan,
The Velvet Underground,
La Düsseldorf,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rotary Connection,
The Techniques,
The Star Department,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fuzztones,
Tommy Roe,
Saccharine Trust,
The Gladiators,
The Last Poets,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.