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 Namibia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Whodini to the jazz 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Erasure,
The Slackers,
Con Funk Shun,
Sex Pistols,
The Move,
La Düsseldorf,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rekid,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soft Cell,
Inner City,
Roxy Music,
Cymande,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mr. Review,
8 Eyed Spy,
Television,
Bobby Sherman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cowsills,
MDC,
Black Flag,
Tom Boy,
Anthony Braxton,
Henry Cow,
The Blues Magoos,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Count Five,
Harmonia,
The Smoke,
Jeff Mills,
The Dead C,
Prince Buster,
Tres Demented,
Amon Düül II,
Flash Fearless,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
New Order,
Popol Vuh,
Oneida,
Parry Music,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Swans,
Roger Hodgson,
Hot Snakes,
Gichy Dan,
Nirvana,
Eric B and Rakim,
Juan Atkins,
Fad Gadget,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Depeche Mode,
Carl Craig,
ABC,
Camberwell Now,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.