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 Hungary and from Seoul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Grass Roots to the crunk 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
the Human League,
Matthew Halsall,
Rapeman,
Wings,
Yazoo,
Second Layer,
Parry Music,
Gabor Szabo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Evens,
Black Moon,
Donald Byrd,
Chris Corsano,
Joyce Sims,
June of 44,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
DJ Style,
The Birthday Party,
The Standells,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Stooges,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cymande,
Joe Smooth,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fortunes,
Easy Going,
The Leaves,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pet Shop Boys,
a-ha,
Bad Manners,
Echospace,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jawbox,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sixth Finger,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scott Walker,
L. Decosne,
Rosa Yemen,
Tres Demented,
Brick,
Fluxion,
La Düsseldorf,
The Litter,
Urselle,
Josef K,
Alice Coltrane,
DNA,
Maurizio,
Ten City,
Vladislav Delay,
Jandek,
Toni Rubio,
Little Man,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.