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 Tonga and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ken Boothe to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Hasil Adkins,
Glenn Branca,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dorothy Ashby,
OOIOO,
Nik Kershaw,
Mission of Burma,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Terrestrial Tones,
B.T. Express,
Massinfluence,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultravox,
The Velvet Underground,
Scientists,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Reagan Youth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Donny Hathaway,
Niagra,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Basic Channel,
Main Source,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Happenings,
La Düsseldorf,
Lebanon Hanover,
Alice Coltrane,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Deakin,
The Residents,
Matthew Bourne,
Radiohead,
Interpol,
The Cure,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amon Düül,
Shuggie Otis,
Aaron Thompson,
Delon & Dalcan,
LL Cool J,
Gong,
Spandau Ballet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Au Pairs,
John Coltrane,
Rosa Yemen,
Radio Birdman,
The Raincoats,
Hashim,
The Skatalites,
The Slits,
Sun City Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Boogie Down Productions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.