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 Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang of Four to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Womack,
the Bar-Kays,
Cameo,
Von Mondo,
The Golliwogs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barbara Tucker,
ABBA,
Radiopuhelimet,
Babytalk,
Blancmange,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lungfish,
Ronan,
Sugar Minott,
Dave Gahan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vainqueur,
Can,
The Raincoats,
The Electric Prunes,
Whodini,
Eddi Front,
Severed Heads,
The Durutti Column,
This Heat,
Curtis Mayfield,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tom Boy,
Minnie Riperton,
The Pop Group,
DJ Style,
The Modern Lovers,
Juan Atkins,
The Seeds,
Mantronix,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Accadde A,
Quadrant,
Sound Behaviour,
Patti Smith,
Flipper,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Teasers,
Visage,
Deadbeat,
John Cale,
Tears for Fears,
KRS-One,
Carl Craig,
Kerri Chandler,
Loose Ends,
Black Pus,
Pere Ubu,
Intrusion,
Nas,
Danielle Patucci,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.