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 Haiti and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro 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 Byron Stingily to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
The Wake,
Brothers Johnson,
Blancmange,
AZ,
Depeche Mode,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siglo XX,
Rufus Thomas,
Mandrill,
Oblivians,
Andrew Hill,
The Young Rascals,
Camouflage,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gladiators,
Man Parrish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skaos,
Circle Jerks,
Bobby Sherman,
Scion,
Metal Thangz,
Pylon,
Technova,
Reagan Youth,
Carl Craig,
Arcadia,
The J.B.'s,
KRS-One,
Funky Four + One,
Nirvana,
Darondo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cluster,
Scott Walker,
Harry Pussy,
Cecil Taylor,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stereo Dub,
Bill Near,
Moss Icon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tears for Fears,
The Skatalites,
The Litter,
the Sonics,
Drexciya,
Swans,
X-101,
John Holt,
Eve St. Jones,
John Lydon,
Pole,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Golliwogs,
Saccharine Trust,
Fugazi,
The Vogues,
Todd Terry,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.