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 Croatia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes 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 Jerry's Kids to the rap 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Lower 48,
Yaz,
Nils Olav,
One Last Wish,
Fad Gadget,
Charles Mingus,
Mark Hollis,
Lou Christie,
Soul II Soul,
Man Parrish,
Livin' Joy,
The Cure,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hasil Adkins,
Pagans,
The Sonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Skriet,
The Angels of Light,
Massinfluence,
Desert Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Oneida,
The Saints,
Bronski Beat,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cramps,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neu!,
Bill Near,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
48th St. Collective,
Oblivians,
Cheater Slicks,
Skarface,
Ronnie Foster,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Metal Thangz,
Nik Kershaw,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nation of Ulysses,
Malaria!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Janne Schatter,
Gichy Dan,
the Germs,
Simply Red,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sight & Sound,
Dennis Brown,
The Selecter,
Kayak,
Zapp,
Tim Buckley,
Clear Light,
Glenn Branca,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.