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 Burkina and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Laurel Aitken to the dance 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
The Velvet Underground,
The Wake,
Deakin,
Dennis Brown,
Patti Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Spandau Ballet,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cowsills,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gap Band,
Grauzone,
Tropical Tobacco,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Swell Maps,
Lou Reed,
The Birthday Party,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
MDC,
Niagra,
Chris Corsano,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fugazi,
Sonic Youth,
Sound Behaviour,
Whodini,
Shoche,
The Associates,
Severed Heads,
Connie Case,
Malaria!,
Aural Exciters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sun Ra,
Underground Resistance,
Jeff Lynne,
Saccharine Trust,
The Gladiators,
Jacques Brel,
Gichy Dan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gabor Szabo,
Erykah Badu,
China Crisis,
Deadbeat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Panda Bear,
Section 25,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultravox,
8 Eyed Spy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Japan,
The Durutti Column,
Lucky Dragons,
World's Most,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.