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 Mali and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Goldenarms to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Bobby Womack,
The Dave Clark Five,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gastr Del Sol,
Derrick May,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Max Romeo,
Harry Pussy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Shuggie Otis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Names,
the Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
The Evens,
Mark Hollis,
Darondo,
Alice Coltrane,
Alison Limerick,
Fad Gadget,
Livin' Joy,
DJ Style,
Piero Umiliani,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Pus,
The Pretty Things,
Swans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crash Course in Science,
the Bar-Kays,
John Foxx,
Subhumans,
Faraquet,
Yellowson,
Surgeon,
Tubeway Army,
Cecil Taylor,
Ken Boothe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Litter,
Schoolly D,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Sherman,
The Wake,
Moebius,
Sight & Sound,
Rod Modell,
Patti Smith,
UT,
Cameo,
Althea and Donna,
Aloha Tigers,
kango's stein massive,
Ronnie Foster,
Bush Tetras,
The Gladiators,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.