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 Iceland and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Icehouse to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Joe Finger,
Sam Rivers,
Monolake,
Minutemen,
Reagan Youth,
Cameo,
The Moody Blues,
The Smiths,
The Sound,
Pulsallama,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Man Parrish,
Camberwell Now,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Walker Brothers,
The Invisible,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Subhumans,
The Index,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nirvana,
Lungfish,
K-Klass,
Rod Modell,
The Residents,
X-102,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sight & Sound,
Ludus,
Bill Wells,
Warren Ellis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Reuben Wilson,
ABC,
Public Image Ltd.,
Japan,
Kerri Chandler,
The Vogues,
Peter and Kerry,
Outsiders,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Johnny Osbourne,
Index,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mark Hollis,
New Order,
Minny Pops,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pagans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quadrant,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Moon,
MDC,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marvin Gaye,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.