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 Cameroon and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cramps,
The Slackers,
Talk Talk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rotary Connection,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Cure,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
PIL,
Stereo Dub,
Average White Band,
Severed Heads,
Rosa Yemen,
Tears for Fears,
The Mojo Men,
Nation of Ulysses,
Groovy Waters,
Adolescents,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wolf Eyes,
Jerry's Kids,
Young Marble Giants,
Althea and Donna,
Y Pants,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
D'Angelo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Susan Cadogan,
KRS-One,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Niagra,
Animal Collective,
Lindisfarne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
These Immortal Souls,
Sixth Finger,
Dave Gahan,
Nik Kershaw,
The Black Dice,
Funky Four + One,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deadbeat,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Von Mondo,
Cheater Slicks,
Khruangbin,
Skriet,
Surgeon,
The New Christs,
The Busters,
The Seeds,
The Neon Judgement,
Rapeman,
Nils Olav,
Roxy Music,
MDC,
The Pretty Things,
X-101,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.