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 Bulgaria and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Joe Smooth to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Von Mondo,
Nick Fraelich,
The Stooges,
10cc,
Freddie Wadling,
Dennis Brown,
Severed Heads,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DJ Style,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Slave,
Terry Callier,
Kurtis Blow,
Spandau Ballet,
Sex Pistols,
Lungfish,
Glenn Branca,
The Saints,
David McCallum,
Bang On A Can,
Moby Grape,
Cymande,
Hot Snakes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Funky Four + One,
Matthew Bourne,
L. Decosne,
Al Stewart,
Flipper,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed,
Black Flag,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Albert Ayler,
Qualms,
Boogie Down Productions,
Camouflage,
Swans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispy Ambulance,
Magazine,
UT,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wally Richardson,
Gong,
Althea and Donna,
Cal Tjader,
Scan 7,
T. Rex,
Main Source,
Mr. Review,
The Pretty Things,
Erasure,
Roy Ayers,
Swell Maps,
Blake Baxter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Duran Duran,
The Searchers,
Erykah Badu,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.