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 Poland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sam Rivers to the dance 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Colin Newman,
Marcia Griffiths,
Faraquet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fad Gadget,
Simply Red,
Little Man,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Desert Stars,
Young Marble Giants,
World's Most,
The Doors,
Scan 7,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cowsills,
Fela Kuti,
the Human League,
Big Daddy Kane,
Quando Quango,
Angry Samoans,
Faust,
Lower 48,
The Associates,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moebius,
F. McDonald,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Beau Brummels,
Half Japanese,
E-Dancer,
Crispian St. Peters,
Altered Images,
Electric Prunes,
The Smoke,
The Victims,
Parry Music,
The Young Rascals,
T.S.O.L.,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Barracudas,
Von Mondo,
Letta Mbulu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moss Icon,
Matthew Bourne,
Spandau Ballet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jawbox,
Fort Wilson Riot,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Royal Trux,
The Sonics,
Spoonie Gee,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bootsy Collins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.