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 Grenada and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 U.S. Maple 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
David McCallum,
Angry Samoans,
Skaos,
Royal Trux,
The Neon Judgement,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Golliwogs,
Circle Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Theoretical Girls,
John Coltrane,
Lou Christie,
The Red Krayola,
One Last Wish,
Jawbox,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Minny Pops,
Robert Hood,
Trumans Water,
Todd Terry,
Kas Product,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Toasters,
Khruangbin,
Ludus,
Absolute Body Control,
Boz Scaggs,
Lyres,
Bobby Byrd,
The Smoke,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dave Gahan,
Faust,
Das Ding,
Sarah Menescal,
T.S.O.L.,
The Standells,
Silicon Teens,
Q65,
World's Most,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harry Pussy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Flipper,
Maurizio,
Althea and Donna,
Bad Manners,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Starr,
OOIOO,
The Stooges,
Essential Logic,
The Martian,
Crispian St. Peters,
Main Source,
The Doors,
Letta Mbulu,
Sister Nancy,
Icehouse,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.