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 Slovenia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roxette to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids 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?
Harry Pussy,
The Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
Althea and Donna,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lyres,
cv313,
T.S.O.L.,
Joy Division,
Neu!,
Pussy Galore,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Icehouse,
Basic Channel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Prince Buster,
Black Moon,
The Monochrome Set,
Swell Maps,
Flipper,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sam Rivers,
Chrome,
New Age Steppers,
Clear Light,
Girls At Our Best!,
Livin' Joy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Terrestrial Tones,
PIL,
The Techniques,
Graham Central Station,
Deepchord,
Pantaleimon,
Ultra Naté,
The Electric Prunes,
Quantec,
UT,
Skaos,
Magma,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Golliwogs,
Blancmange,
Vainqueur,
Whodini,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neil Young,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Human League,
AZ,
The Slits,
Shoche,
Thompson Twins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Music Machine,
Moebius,
Radiopuhelimet,
Theoretical Girls,
Erykah Badu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.