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 Qatar and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Porter Ricks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultra Naté,
The Searchers,
Dennis Brown,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
T. Rex,
Can,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Robert Görl,
Faust,
Wolf Eyes,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gories,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Agent Orange,
The Vogues,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sandy B,
Reagan Youth,
Duran Duran,
Joey Negro,
the Bar-Kays,
Q and Not U,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sonic Youth,
Funkadelic,
Blancmange,
Rakim,
Masters at Work,
Babytalk,
Marine Girls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Residents,
Ultravox,
Hasil Adkins,
Johnny Clarke,
Clear Light,
Aural Exciters,
Amazonics,
Jeff Mills,
Sister Nancy,
The Raincoats,
The Beau Brummels,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Model 500,
Lungfish,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sound Behaviour,
The Birthday Party,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New Age Steppers,
MDC,
Dual Sessions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thee Headcoats,
Pantytec,
The Saints,
Morten Harket,
Todd Terry,
Tom Boy,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.