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 Egypt and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Invisible to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier 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?
Eric Copeland,
Agent Orange,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
MDC,
Pantaleimon,
The Fugs,
The Mojo Men,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scott Walker,
Mars,
Public Image Ltd.,
H. Thieme,
The Associates,
Roxy Music,
Dave Gahan,
Mark Hollis,
Echospace,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Walker Brothers,
Rufus Thomas,
Barrington Levy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cluster,
Ossler,
The Cramps,
The Red Krayola,
Byron Stingily,
Radio Birdman,
Country Teasers,
Technova,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sparks,
The Evens,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Loose Ends,
David Axelrod,
Khruangbin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bauhaus,
The American Breed,
Silicon Teens,
The Five Americans,
Pylon,
Arcadia,
Rosa Yemen,
Spandau Ballet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oblivians,
Harry Pussy,
Gang of Four,
Soft Cell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deepchord,
Hashim,
X-Ray Spex,
Joe Smooth,
Crime,
Lebanon Hanover,
Juan Atkins,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.