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 Zambia and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Minutemen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Monks,
kango's stein massive,
Royal Trux,
The Standells,
Rhythm & Sound,
Amon Düül,
Das Ding,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Sheep,
David Bowie,
Rod Modell,
The J.B.'s,
Visage,
Interpol,
Hashim,
The Slits,
Flipper,
Surgeon,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Foxx,
Gang Starr,
The Durutti Column,
The Move,
Maurizio,
Trumans Water,
Man Parrish,
Ituana,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gang Green,
Black Pus,
The Leaves,
10cc,
Q65,
The Music Machine,
Lungfish,
Prince Buster,
Tom Boy,
the Swans,
the Soft Cell,
Khruangbin,
Sex Pistols,
New Age Steppers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Accadde A,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tommy Roe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Animal Collective,
Delta 5,
FM Einheit,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dawn Penn,
Reagan Youth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Victims,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.