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 Palau and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bang On A Can to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
The Monochrome Set,
Roxy Music,
Alice Coltrane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Essential Logic,
Oblivians,
The Index,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric B and Rakim,
Visage,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Masters at Work,
Harmonia,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Spoonie Gee,
Erasure,
Janne Schatter,
Guru Guru,
Infiniti,
Theoretical Girls,
Malaria!,
Sixth Finger,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
E-Dancer,
Severed Heads,
These Immortal Souls,
The Standells,
New Order,
Amon Düül II,
John Foxx,
Wire,
Sandy B,
Khruangbin,
Stetsasonic,
Moss Icon,
Leonard Cohen,
Joensuu 1685,
Sparks,
Pylon,
Sex Pistols,
Anthony Braxton,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rhythm & Sound,
Goldenarms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Moleskins,
Davy DMX,
Con Funk Shun,
Byron Stingily,
The Angels of Light,
Black Bananas,
Eden Ahbez,
World's Most,
Deepchord,
the Slits,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.