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 Nigeria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Gladiators to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
The Durutti Column,
Sonny Sharrock,
Can,
John Holt,
The Martian,
Country Teasers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Howard Jones,
Tubeway Army,
Chris Corsano,
Talk Talk,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dead Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Crispian St. Peters,
Symarip,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Divine Comedy,
The Invisible,
Hoover,
Gerry Rafferty,
Livin' Joy,
The New Christs,
Suicide,
Althea and Donna,
Glenn Branca,
OOIOO,
Dual Sessions,
Max Romeo,
Outsiders,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deakin,
Maleditus Sound,
Jacques Brel,
Niagra,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Theoretical Girls,
One Last Wish,
the Human League,
New York Dolls,
The Star Department,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lalann,
Scientists,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Flag,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Swans,
Matthew Halsall,
Kas Product,
Youth Brigade,
Scott Walker,
Kayak,
Sun City Girls,
Echospace,
Porter Ricks,
Shuggie Otis,
Neu!,
Animal Collective,
The Real Kids,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.