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 St Lucia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pet Shop Boys to the grunge 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Moleskins,
Freddie Wadling,
Icehouse,
Iggy Pop,
Junior Murvin,
Ultravox,
Mission of Burma,
Ice-T,
Althea and Donna,
June of 44,
The Mojo Men,
Shuggie Otis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deadbeat,
X-101,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Byrd,
Model 500,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Toasters,
Roger Hodgson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gang Starr,
Tom Boy,
Nation of Ulysses,
KRS-One,
Wings,
Reagan Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Blancmange,
Kool Moe Dee,
Negative Approach,
Joe Finger,
Public Enemy,
Jandek,
Scan 7,
Albert Ayler,
Oblivians,
Bauhaus,
Crime,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stereo Dub,
Warsaw,
The Offenders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
U.S. Maple,
Eric Dolphy,
Electric Prunes,
The Slits,
Heaven 17,
Lou Reed,
Camouflage,
Marine Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lakeside,
Infiniti,
Popol Vuh,
Quando Quango,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Maurizio,
Moebius,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.