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 Botswana and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Joy Division to the techno 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Mars,
Skaos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Motorama,
Sixth Finger,
Rufus Thomas,
Kayak,
DNA,
The Human League,
La Düsseldorf,
Franke,
The United States of America,
Deadbeat,
Nick Fraelich,
Funky Four + One,
Goldenarms,
Camouflage,
Judy Mowatt,
MDC,
Von Mondo,
the Human League,
Suicide,
D'Angelo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Angels of Light,
The Smoke,
H. Thieme,
The Birthday Party,
John Holt,
The Sonics,
B.T. Express,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Real Kids,
Bootsy Collins,
Sister Nancy,
Sam Rivers,
Fluxion,
Suburban Knight,
David Bowie,
The Flesh Eaters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cluster,
Neu!,
Ludus,
E-Dancer,
Intrusion,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rosa Yemen,
The Slackers,
Lou Reed,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dorothy Ashby,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca,
Crash Course in Science,
Banda Bassotti,
Parry Music,
The Modern Lovers,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.