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 Montenegro and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Fortunes to the punk 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Skarface,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Khruangbin,
Popol Vuh,
La Düsseldorf,
Accadde A,
The Wake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABBA,
Au Pairs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jeff Lynne,
Jerry's Kids,
Rufus Thomas,
The Angels of Light,
Motorama,
Royal Trux,
Spandau Ballet,
The Motions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fat Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
Erykah Badu,
Magma,
The Misunderstood,
Nas,
Agitation Free,
Man Parrish,
Sarah Menescal,
Whodini,
Cluster,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Howard Jones,
Soul II Soul,
The Knickerbockers,
Anakelly,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Neu!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
Sister Nancy,
Simply Red,
Kayak,
Depeche Mode,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joyce Sims,
The Dirtbombs,
Audionom,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jawbox,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bob Dylan,
Monolake,
FM Einheit,
Supertramp,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mo-Dettes,
Eden Ahbez,
Desert Stars,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.