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 Cape Verde and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin 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 The Black Dice to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
The Slackers,
Quadrant,
Panda Bear,
Radio Birdman,
Nils Olav,
Aswad,
Quantec,
The Grass Roots,
Lalann,
The Buckinghams,
Lightning Bolt,
This Heat,
Dave Gahan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Excepter,
Eric Copeland,
Eddi Front,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bauhaus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Thompson Twins,
David Axelrod,
Kayak,
Gang Green,
Agitation Free,
Arthur Verocai,
Loose Ends,
Altered Images,
The Mojo Men,
The American Breed,
Soft Machine,
Interpol,
Sandy B,
Ludus,
Scott Walker,
Man Eating Sloth,
Maleditus Sound,
The New Christs,
The Selecter,
Al Stewart,
Piero Umiliani,
Kevin Saunderson,
T. Rex,
Surgeon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Godley & Creme,
The Trojans,
Yellowson,
Oneida,
10cc,
Qualms,
Pantaleimon,
Wings,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Popol Vuh,
Easy Going,
Index,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.