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 Thailand and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 T. Rex to the electroclash 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Quando Quango,
Ten City,
Hardrive,
The Walker Brothers,
The Gladiators,
Funkadelic,
Curtis Mayfield,
Panda Bear,
Little Man,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marine Girls,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Invisible,
The Offenders,
In Retrospect,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Guru Guru,
Black Pus,
Dave Gahan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Neu!,
Fear,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fall,
Faust,
Surgeon,
The Neon Judgement,
Moby Grape,
Ken Boothe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Sherman,
Technova,
Circle Jerks,
The Trojans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blackbyrds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Techniques,
Harmonia,
Section 25,
Infiniti,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magazine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jerry's Kids,
The Leaves,
the Normal,
Hoover,
Deakin,
James White and The Blacks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Robert Görl,
Idris Muhammad,
Brass Construction,
Bob Dylan,
Half Japanese,
Chris Corsano,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.