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 Slovenia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Cosmic Jokers to the techno 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Jandek,
Unwound,
Swell Maps,
Gabor Szabo,
Visage,
Cymande,
Tres Demented,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Style,
June of 44,
The Victims,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Real Kids,
ABBA,
Crime,
Maurizio,
K-Klass,
Black Bananas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Beau Brummels,
Agent Orange,
The Sonics,
The Invisible,
Darondo,
The Litter,
Funky Four + One,
Barrington Levy,
Blancmange,
ABC,
Bad Manners,
Marine Girls,
X-101,
Lungfish,
The Misunderstood,
Lindisfarne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Freddie Wadling,
The Music Machine,
Stiv Bators,
Gang Starr,
Au Pairs,
Malaria!,
Piero Umiliani,
Sarah Menescal,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pet Shop Boys,
LL Cool J,
The Tremeloes,
Anakelly,
Rufus Thomas,
Kayak,
Nick Fraelich,
Scan 7,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Golliwogs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.