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 Singapore and from Seoul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sonics to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Tim Buckley,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Severed Heads,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pussy Galore,
Swans,
Graham Central Station,
Godley & Creme,
Bill Wells,
Moss Icon,
Amazonics,
The Mummies,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Howard Jones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Glambeats Corp.,
Parry Music,
Joensuu 1685,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scion,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun Ra,
Oblivians,
The Divine Comedy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Average White Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Eddi Front,
Amon Düül,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Kinks,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Star Department,
Section 25,
Adolescents,
Ice-T,
Excepter,
Jesper Dahlback,
AZ,
Wings,
Chris Corsano,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Germs,
Jawbox,
Soul Sonic Force,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lightning Bolt,
Monks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Intrusion,
Wire,
Lalann,
Roxette,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rakim,
The Angels of Light,
Faust,
The Detroit Cobras,
Audionom,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.