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 Niger and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Supertramp to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
kango's stein massive,
It's A Beautiful Day,
David Bowie,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Görl,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soul II Soul,
The Flesh Eaters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Scientists,
Bootsy Collins,
Quantec,
Talk Talk,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Pus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Trumans Water,
The Evens,
Isaac Hayes,
Kurtis Blow,
Heaven 17,
The Gun Club,
Camouflage,
Electric Prunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lucky Dragons,
The Moleskins,
Kas Product,
Loose Ends,
Zapp,
Tears for Fears,
Suicide,
Vladislav Delay,
T.S.O.L.,
10cc,
Mandrill,
The United States of America,
The Young Rascals,
Lungfish,
Animal Collective,
The Saints,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mo-Dettes,
Slave,
Cybotron,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Porter Ricks,
Pylon,
Monolake,
The Blues Magoos,
Little Man,
Oblivians,
Lou Reed,
Lebanon Hanover,
Susan Cadogan,
Harpers Bizarre,
UT,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.