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 Andorra and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe 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 Depeche Mode to the grunge 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
the Fania All-Stars,
Excepter,
Niagra,
Minnie Riperton,
Althea and Donna,
Bill Wells,
Deepchord,
KRS-One,
Sarah Menescal,
Infiniti,
Guru Guru,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Zeros,
Pagans,
Tomorrow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Suicide,
Shuggie Otis,
The Leaves,
The Stooges,
Unwound,
The Tremeloes,
Al Stewart,
Todd Terry,
Banda Bassotti,
Echospace,
Yazoo,
The Electric Prunes,
Tim Buckley,
Icehouse,
The Sonics,
The Blues Magoos,
Talk Talk,
June Days,
Ten City,
Gang Starr,
Lightning Bolt,
Bizarre Inc.,
Porter Ricks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Clear Light,
Circle Jerks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tubeway Army,
Ultra Naté,
Supertramp,
Heaven 17,
Jawbox,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yusef Lateef,
Alphaville,
CMW,
Faraquet,
F. McDonald,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Quadrant,
Soft Cell,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.