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 Belize and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
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 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 David Bowie 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 American Breed to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Angels of Light,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scrapy,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Litter,
Zapp,
Black Moon,
Colin Newman,
Zero Boys,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Wyatt,
Lower 48,
Quadrant,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Saints,
The Smoke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
U.S. Maple,
Avey Tare,
Pylon,
The Divine Comedy,
DNA,
Nico,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Babytalk,
DJ Sneak,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
X-Ray Spex,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Toni Rubio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joyce Sims,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lyres,
Technova,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Oneida,
Interpol,
the Soft Cell,
The Dead C,
Reuben Wilson,
Camouflage,
Fugazi,
Bad Manners,
Gong,
Blossom Toes,
Clear Light,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brothers Johnson,
Popol Vuh,
Skaos,
Roger Hodgson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Con Funk Shun,
Y Pants,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.