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 Romania and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin 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 John Holt to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
New York Dolls,
The Happenings,
John Cale,
The Gories,
Al Stewart,
Gang of Four,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arab on Radar,
Magma,
The Count Five,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grauzone,
Danielle Patucci,
Thompson Twins,
Matthew Halsall,
Agitation Free,
Tomorrow,
Echospace,
Pagans,
Boredoms,
Ossler,
Tropical Tobacco,
Donald Byrd,
Outsiders,
Morten Harket,
Television Personalities,
The Names,
10cc,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Underground Resistance,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jacques Brel,
Jawbox,
Con Funk Shun,
Sex Pistols,
Average White Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eden Ahbez,
Jandek,
John Foxx,
Marc Almond,
Clear Light,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tom Boy,
Scrapy,
E-Dancer,
Pere Ubu,
Patti Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cameo,
The Trojans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pulsallama,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.