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 Azerbaijan and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 Radio Birdman to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Misunderstood,
Colin Newman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Delta 5,
Soft Machine,
Hardrive,
Crispian St. Peters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amazonics,
Mr. Review,
The Modern Lovers,
The Star Department,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Y Pants,
Robert Görl,
Shoche,
Bob Dylan,
Jerry's Kids,
PIL,
Can,
Rakim,
In Retrospect,
Ice-T,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The American Breed,
Moebius,
Supertramp,
Q65,
Rufus Thomas,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Association,
Television,
Bang On A Can,
Scott Walker,
Young Marble Giants,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Sonics,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Oneida,
Suicide,
Scion,
Gichy Dan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scientists,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
La Düsseldorf,
Jacques Brel,
JFA,
Public Enemy,
The Dead C,
Sixth Finger,
Pole,
Marmalade,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.