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 Kyrgyzstan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gerry Rafferty to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Cameo,
Sam Rivers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Five Americans,
UT,
Can,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Index,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dual Sessions,
Todd Terry,
Harmonia,
Erasure,
Nick Fraelich,
Los Fastidios,
Animal Collective,
48th St. Collective,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eve St. Jones,
Dave Gahan,
Hardrive,
Sight & Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Janne Schatter,
Harry Pussy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Stooges,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Smiths,
The Grass Roots,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Susan Cadogan,
Make Up,
Aural Exciters,
The Durutti Column,
The Associates,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Little Man,
Ultravox,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Colin Newman,
Prince Buster,
Sound Behaviour,
Radio Birdman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Zero Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Matthew Halsall,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nirvana,
Throbbing Gristle,
Agitation Free,
Scratch Acid,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Sherman,
Moby Grape,
Con Funk Shun,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.