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 Kiribati and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Hasil Adkins to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
These Immortal Souls,
Motorama,
The Young Rascals,
D'Angelo,
Y Pants,
Television Personalities,
Rosa Yemen,
Rites of Spring,
The Black Dice,
Babytalk,
Funkadelic,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
The Smoke,
Gong,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Chrome,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quadrant,
Yazoo,
The Victims,
Hot Snakes,
Pere Ubu,
Connie Case,
Iggy Pop,
Pharoah Sanders,
Underground Resistance,
John Lydon,
Masters at Work,
Marc Almond,
Trumans Water,
Joey Negro,
Cal Tjader,
Main Source,
Eve St. Jones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stiv Bators,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nirvana,
Scott Walker,
F. McDonald,
Sällskapet,
Pagans,
Oblivians,
Nas,
Angry Samoans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Faust,
Kerri Chandler,
Lakeside,
The Count Five,
Blancmange,
Robert Hood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bad Manners,
Cheater Slicks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Monks,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.