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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Skriet to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
June Days,
Second Layer,
Crooked Eye,
Anakelly,
Jawbox,
Supertramp,
The Victims,
Graham Central Station,
Main Source,
Black Sheep,
Y Pants,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Interpol,
World's Most,
Janne Schatter,
Ultra Naté,
Man Eating Sloth,
Monks,
Alphaville,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marvin Gaye,
Joy Division,
Erykah Badu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pussy Galore,
Wire,
Tom Boy,
Eric Copeland,
Rites of Spring,
Franke,
Robert Wyatt,
Suburban Knight,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nils Olav,
Dave Gahan,
In Retrospect,
Dark Day,
Yusef Lateef,
Swell Maps,
Eli Mardock,
The Pretty Things,
The Blackbyrds,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Byrd,
Boredoms,
The Fuzztones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camberwell Now,
the Sonics,
Accadde A,
Rosa Yemen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Trumans Water,
The Associates,
Ken Boothe,
Echospace,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
8 Eyed Spy,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.