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 Gambia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Bizarre Inc.,
Skarface,
Reuben Wilson,
Suburban Knight,
Freddie Wadling,
Charles Mingus,
Mark Hollis,
The Cramps,
The Trojans,
The Electric Prunes,
Niagra,
Reagan Youth,
The Standells,
The Saints,
A Certain Ratio,
Roger Hodgson,
the Sonics,
Jacob Miller,
Blancmange,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Average White Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Siglo XX,
Marine Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Crooked Eye,
Nico,
Steve Hackett,
Basic Channel,
Rosa Yemen,
Quando Quango,
Drexciya,
Leonard Cohen,
The Residents,
China Crisis,
FM Einheit,
Dark Day,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gories,
Patti Smith,
Clear Light,
Aural Exciters,
Tubeway Army,
Sixth Finger,
Crime,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The United States of America,
The Names,
Flipper,
Deepchord,
The Birthday Party,
the Germs,
The Martian,
Glenn Branca,
Mary Jane Girls,
Newcleus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Essential Logic,
Ultra Naté,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.