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 Andorra and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Swans to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Popol Vuh,
Janne Schatter,
The Modern Lovers,
Marc Almond,
Throbbing Gristle,
Reagan Youth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roxette,
Hardrive,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joy Division,
Infiniti,
Hoover,
Sparks,
Brothers Johnson,
Dennis Brown,
Sexual Harrassment,
Parry Music,
Sarah Menescal,
Josef K,
The Evens,
The Skatalites,
Nick Fraelich,
Rod Modell,
Monks,
Hashim,
Vladislav Delay,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Womack,
Qualms,
8 Eyed Spy,
Q and Not U,
E-Dancer,
Arab on Radar,
Henry Cow,
X-101,
Talk Talk,
ABBA,
The Monks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Quadrant,
Yazoo,
Tubeway Army,
The Misunderstood,
The Litter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Vainqueur,
June of 44,
In Retrospect,
Chris Corsano,
kango's stein massive,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Seeds,
Pharoah Sanders,
10cc,
Liliput,
Funkadelic,
Todd Rundgren,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.