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 Nauru and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the techno 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
the Slits,
Donny Hathaway,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Man Parrish,
The Buckinghams,
The Modern Lovers,
Dual Sessions,
The Dirtbombs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Animal Collective,
Stetsasonic,
A Certain Ratio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alphaville,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nick Fraelich,
Hasil Adkins,
Duran Duran,
Albert Ayler,
Ronan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hardrive,
Wolf Eyes,
Faraquet,
Quando Quango,
Bronski Beat,
the Human League,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Lynne,
The Young Rascals,
Shoche,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Cell,
X-Ray Spex,
Minutemen,
the Sonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Slave,
Mandrill,
Fugazi,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun City Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
The Real Kids,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Grandmaster Flash,
Magazine,
Tom Boy,
The Black Dice,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pagans,
Mission of Burma,
Bluetip,
Derrick Morgan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.