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 Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Black Dice to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
The Dirtbombs,
Terry Callier,
Derrick Morgan,
John Lydon,
10cc,
Yaz,
The Modern Lovers,
Q65,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
The Names,
Trumans Water,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric Copeland,
Girls At Our Best!,
Skriet,
Quadrant,
Sam Rivers,
The Monochrome Set,
Marcia Griffiths,
Darondo,
Howard Jones,
Nirvana,
Freddie Wadling,
Wally Richardson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alice Coltrane,
David McCallum,
China Crisis,
Harmonia,
The Fortunes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deadbeat,
Arthur Verocai,
Laurel Aitken,
Bauhaus,
Easy Going,
Robert Hood,
Erasure,
Scratch Acid,
Reagan Youth,
Moebius,
Idris Muhammad,
Nils Olav,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joy Division,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echospace,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Glenn Branca,
Fad Gadget,
Maurizio,
Al Stewart,
The American Breed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Swans,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.