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 Cuba and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lindisfarne to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harry Pussy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Unwound,
Saccharine Trust,
Pole,
Aural Exciters,
Model 500,
The Human League,
Bobby Womack,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Derrick May,
Royal Trux,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Zero Boys,
The Zeros,
Quando Quango,
Unrelated Segments,
Rekid,
Thompson Twins,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Metal Thangz,
Jacques Brel,
Ken Boothe,
Roxette,
Moebius,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Pretty Things,
Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kerrie Biddell,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dead C,
the Association,
Jeff Lynne,
Inner City,
Alton Ellis,
Byron Stingily,
The Happenings,
Fat Boys,
Ohio Players,
The Fuzztones,
Whodini,
Subhumans,
Soulsonic Force,
Crash Course in Science,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scott Walker,
Grauzone,
Arthur Verocai,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Urselle,
Funky Four + One,
Erasure,
Scrapy,
Spoonie Gee,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Clarke,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.