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 Bangladesh and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Byron Stingily to the electroclash 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
David Bowie,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lower 48,
Donald Byrd,
The Buckinghams,
Jeru the Damaja,
Michelle Simonal,
D'Angelo,
Silicon Teens,
Eden Ahbez,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kas Product,
FM Einheit,
Von Mondo,
Kaleidoscope,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pere Ubu,
Tears for Fears,
Intrusion,
Mr. Review,
X-Ray Spex,
The Names,
The Dirtbombs,
A Certain Ratio,
Sight & Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Judy Mowatt,
John Cale,
Boz Scaggs,
Slave,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Howard Jones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Gang Dance,
The New Christs,
Model 500,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Groovy Waters,
Ituana,
JFA,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radiopuhelimet,
Popol Vuh,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang Starr,
Patti Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bang On A Can,
Dark Day,
Pussy Galore,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Man Parrish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bill Wells,
Hashim,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.