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 Nepal and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron 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 Sexual Harrassment 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Aloha Tigers,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fall,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The J.B.'s,
Jerry's Kids,
the Slits,
Harmonia,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Neon Judgement,
Flipper,
Yellowson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hasil Adkins,
Marvin Gaye,
Rites of Spring,
Curtis Mayfield,
Model 500,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mission of Burma,
The Happenings,
Pierre Henry,
Ossler,
the Swans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aural Exciters,
Gabor Szabo,
Flash Fearless,
Negative Approach,
Moby Grape,
The Doors,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fire Engines,
The Human League,
Moss Icon,
The Associates,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fugazi,
Circle Jerks,
The Skatalites,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Shuggie Otis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brick,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sonic Youth,
Sarah Menescal,
Glambeats Corp.,
Graham Central Station,
Eve St. Jones,
The Techniques,
Grauzone,
Grey Daturas,
F. McDonald,
The Raincoats,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.