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 Ethiopia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pierre Henry to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Goldenarms,
The Moody Blues,
FM Einheit,
Aural Exciters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agent Orange,
These Immortal Souls,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Count Five,
The Real Kids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yazoo,
Toni Rubio,
Sex Pistols,
Fat Boys,
Dual Sessions,
X-102,
Gang Gang Dance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
June of 44,
Frankie Knuckles,
Chrome,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Depeche Mode,
Scientists,
Kaleidoscope,
Hoover,
JFA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Red Krayola,
The Divine Comedy,
Minnie Riperton,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Offenders,
Alison Limerick,
Tomorrow,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jeff Lynne,
Wally Richardson,
The Fuzztones,
Black Flag,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultimate Spinach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lungfish,
DNA,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slits,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pylon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dorothy Ashby,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tears for Fears,
the Slits,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.