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 Armenia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bush Tetras to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Goldenarms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Yazoo,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tommy Roe,
Ultravox,
Wolf Eyes,
Model 500,
The Human League,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
In Retrospect,
Donald Byrd,
Surgeon,
Ponytail,
Sugar Minott,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Angels of Light,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fortunes,
Ituana,
Alphaville,
Arthur Verocai,
The Tremeloes,
Monks,
Colin Newman,
Spoonie Gee,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sight & Sound,
The Doobie Brothers,
Procol Harum,
It's A Beautiful Day,
James White and The Blacks,
Kaleidoscope,
JFA,
The Real Kids,
Accadde A,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Golliwogs,
Anakelly,
Vladislav Delay,
Scion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Angry Samoans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deepchord,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Chrome,
Al Stewart,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jacques Brel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Sheep,
CMW,
Aaron Thompson,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.