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 Australia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
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 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 B.T. Express to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
The Sonics,
Danielle Patucci,
Crispian St. Peters,
Subhumans,
Electric Prunes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wally Richardson,
Gang of Four,
Neu!,
Tommy Roe,
The Velvet Underground,
The United States of America,
Wire,
Eve St. Jones,
Andrew Hill,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare,
Janne Schatter,
the Germs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eric Copeland,
John Cale,
CMW,
Sugar Minott,
The Young Rascals,
Circle Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Swans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kayak,
Gong,
Roy Ayers,
Moby Grape,
Goldenarms,
The Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Metal Thangz,
Lou Christie,
Ituana,
Bauhaus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tears for Fears,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Schoolly D,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sister Nancy,
The Vogues,
Zapp,
The Invisible,
Anthony Braxton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lee Hazlewood,
Massinfluence,
Pet Shop Boys,
Talk Talk,
H. Thieme,
Glenn Branca,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.