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 Honduras and from London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lou Christie to the crunk 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Nico,
Scan 7,
Davy DMX,
Warren Ellis,
The Divine Comedy,
The Selecter,
Camouflage,
a-ha,
Gang Starr,
Jandek,
Erykah Badu,
David Bowie,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joyce Sims,
Qualms,
June Days,
Eric Copeland,
Mandrill,
Parry Music,
Sonic Youth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rites of Spring,
Tropical Tobacco,
Niagra,
Black Bananas,
Suburban Knight,
The Moody Blues,
Heaven 17,
Brass Construction,
Carl Craig,
X-102,
Tears for Fears,
Sound Behaviour,
Yellowson,
Thee Headcoats,
Intrusion,
Jacques Brel,
Section 25,
Whodini,
Terry Callier,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultra Naté,
The American Breed,
Radiopuhelimet,
L. Decosne,
Robert Wyatt,
Bang On A Can,
Deadbeat,
Bill Wells,
Peter & Gordon,
Depeche Mode,
The Moleskins,
Alison Limerick,
The Cure,
X-Ray Spex,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.