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 Kyrgyzstan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Angels of Light to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Desert Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
Amon Düül,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Dead C,
Iggy Pop,
Toni Rubio,
Faraquet,
Deepchord,
Hasil Adkins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Charles Mingus,
Duran Duran,
The Sonics,
Monks,
The Fuzztones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mission of Burma,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lou Reed,
The New Christs,
Kerri Chandler,
Interpol,
The Motions,
The Pop Group,
DJ Sneak,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Au Pairs,
Glenn Branca,
The Busters,
Ronnie Foster,
Brass Construction,
Eve St. Jones,
David Axelrod,
Ornette Coleman,
Inner City,
The Smoke,
Unrelated Segments,
Bad Manners,
Television Personalities,
Hot Snakes,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fatback Band,
Angry Samoans,
48th St. Collective,
the Normal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Patti Smith,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Almond,
Radiopuhelimet,
Silicon Teens,
In Retrospect,
The Detroit Cobras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lyres,
The Misunderstood,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.