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 Bulgaria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Mojo Men to the grime 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 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 Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Hasil Adkins,
Wire,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Robert Hood,
Letta Mbulu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Fear,
Howard Jones,
The Slackers,
R.M.O.,
Qualms,
Scion,
Connie Case,
H. Thieme,
U.S. Maple,
Minny Pops,
Yazoo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Buzzcocks,
Rites of Spring,
EPMD,
Dawn Penn,
The Mojo Men,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Das Ding,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Reed,
Duran Duran,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Henry Cow,
OOIOO,
Archie Shepp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kas Product,
Kool Moe Dee,
Saccharine Trust,
Los Fastidios,
The Selecter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Severed Heads,
Skarface,
The Young Rascals,
Alphaville,
John Foxx,
The Dead C,
Ultra Naté,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deepchord,
Technova,
Cameo,
Stetsasonic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bluetip,
The Busters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bill Near,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.