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 Singapore and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Pretty Things to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
The Toasters,
The Kinks,
Lalann,
Juan Atkins,
Scratch Acid,
Soulsonic Force,
the Germs,
Scion,
Sound Behaviour,
La Düsseldorf,
The Leaves,
Barrington Levy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Victims,
Curtis Mayfield,
World's Most,
Ohio Players,
Adolescents,
Marcia Griffiths,
Loose Ends,
Porter Ricks,
Sun Ra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gun Club,
Donald Byrd,
Section 25,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Human League,
Fluxion,
Tim Buckley,
The Raincoats,
Shuggie Otis,
Severed Heads,
Pet Shop Boys,
New York Dolls,
Alphaville,
Leonard Cohen,
Q and Not U,
Unwound,
Idris Muhammad,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gang Green,
Boz Scaggs,
The Cramps,
Rhythm & Sound,
Japan,
Althea and Donna,
Max Romeo,
Dark Day,
China Crisis,
Johnny Clarke,
The Birthday Party,
Fear,
The Stooges,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Velvet Underground,
One Last Wish,
Masters at Work,
Pantytec,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.