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 Sri Lanka and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Raincoats to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Sällskapet,
The United States of America,
Gang Gang Dance,
Goldenarms,
Panda Bear,
Pere Ubu,
Barry Ungar,
Arthur Verocai,
The Velvet Underground,
Sonny Sharrock,
DNA,
The Gap Band,
The Seeds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Babytalk,
The Selecter,
Matthew Halsall,
Mo-Dettes,
Don Cherry,
Interpol,
Man Parrish,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cameo,
The Toasters,
Blancmange,
Echospace,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marmalade,
Japan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobbi Humphrey,
JFA,
Harmonia,
The Residents,
Amon Düül,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fat Boys,
The Moleskins,
Piero Umiliani,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rotary Connection,
The Angels of Light,
Vladislav Delay,
Slick Rick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cal Tjader,
The Sonics,
Talk Talk,
Funky Four + One,
Yazoo,
Amon Düül II,
Terry Callier,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
H. Thieme,
Peter and Kerry,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.