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 Rwanda and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 David Axelrod to the rap 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Todd Rundgren,
Loose Ends,
The Sound,
Joy Division,
Mad Mike,
June of 44,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Can,
The Fire Engines,
The Cowsills,
Radio Birdman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bob Dylan,
Tom Boy,
Rod Modell,
Infiniti,
Symarip,
Lou Reed,
Man Eating Sloth,
B.T. Express,
Livin' Joy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Talk Talk,
Masters at Work,
Skaos,
Little Man,
Ludus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Heaven 17,
Archie Shepp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Shoche,
Swans,
Pantaleimon,
Blake Baxter,
Inner City,
Michelle Simonal,
The Electric Prunes,
The Misunderstood,
Dave Gahan,
Joe Smooth,
Rakim,
R.M.O.,
DJ Sneak,
The Happenings,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Tremeloes,
the Bar-Kays,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lakeside,
John Foxx,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fortunes,
Maleditus Sound,
Q65,
Black Flag,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.