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 Nepal and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Outsiders to the grunge 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Motorama,
Robert Wyatt,
Josef K,
The Modern Lovers,
Shuggie Otis,
Tres Demented,
Ossler,
R.M.O.,
Aloha Tigers,
Mo-Dettes,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Unwound,
The Vogues,
Gabor Szabo,
Youth Brigade,
The Smoke,
Masters at Work,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pharoah Sanders,
Amon Düül,
Dead Boys,
Ituana,
Warren Ellis,
Fad Gadget,
Rosa Yemen,
Slave,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kurtis Blow,
Kenny Larkin,
Minnie Riperton,
Kaleidoscope,
Quantec,
Camberwell Now,
Andrew Hill,
The Monks,
Henry Cow,
X-102,
Khruangbin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
Tommy Roe,
Saccharine Trust,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Radio Birdman,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kayak,
Animal Collective,
Boz Scaggs,
Half Japanese,
Grey Daturas,
Roger Hodgson,
New Age Steppers,
Interpol,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dawn Penn,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.