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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Mexico City and Hong Kong.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the electroclash 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Man Parrish,
Faraquet,
ABBA,
Soft Cell,
F. McDonald,
Smog,
Sex Pistols,
Kool Moe Dee,
Organ,
Inner City,
The Cramps,
Anakelly,
Delta 5,
the Soft Cell,
Minny Pops,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marc Almond,
Scratch Acid,
Fort Wilson Riot,
June of 44,
Maleditus Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nik Kershaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Qualms,
Talk Talk,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Motions,
John Holt,
Das Ding,
Kerri Chandler,
Chris Corsano,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Green,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Electric Prunes,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gladiators,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Velvet Underground,
Massinfluence,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dark Day,
Fear,
The Grass Roots,
The Fire Engines,
Agent Orange,
Sixth Finger,
Brand Nubian,
JFA,
Desert Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Reuben Wilson,
Lalann,
FM Einheit,
The Fortunes,
OOIOO,
Average White Band,
Stiv Bators,
Simply Red,
Circle Jerks,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.