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 Ecuador and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Yusef Lateef to the dance 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
X-101,
Wire,
The Gap Band,
Roxette,
Hardrive,
Brick,
New Age Steppers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
MC5,
Bluetip,
The Dirtbombs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Hot Snakes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Amon Düül,
Eric B and Rakim,
Judy Mowatt,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fall,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wally Richardson,
Tom Boy,
Deepchord,
a-ha,
Soulsonic Force,
This Heat,
Fear,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Ice-T,
The Black Dice,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Von Mondo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Terry Callier,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grey Daturas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roxy Music,
The Young Rascals,
Gong,
Jeff Lynne,
Henry Cow,
ABBA,
AZ,
Livin' Joy,
Icehouse,
The Stooges,
Harry Pussy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Monks,
Bush Tetras,
Kaleidoscope,
World's Most,
James White and The Blacks,
The Victims,
Flamin' Groovies,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultimate Spinach,
Theoretical Girls,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.