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 El Salvador and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bobby Sherman to the crunk 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dead C,
Unrelated Segments,
Marc Almond,
Ituana,
Colin Newman,
Roxy Music,
The Grass Roots,
Rod Modell,
Cybotron,
The Moleskins,
Eurythmics,
The Durutti Column,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Holt,
Agent Orange,
Urselle,
Vladislav Delay,
The Names,
Gabor Szabo,
Erasure,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Radio Birdman,
OOIOO,
Sandy B,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fire Engines,
The Cowsills,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monks,
Minnie Riperton,
The Count Five,
The Skatalites,
Bronski Beat,
Magazine,
Audionom,
The Associates,
ABBA,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Monochrome Set,
Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alison Limerick,
Nico,
Camouflage,
Visage,
Deakin,
Kenny Larkin,
X-Ray Spex,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Al Stewart,
Harry Pussy,
Chris & Cosey,
Index,
Sun City Girls,
The Stooges,
Blake Baxter,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.