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 Libya and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Spandau Ballet to the dance 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
F. McDonald,
Symarip,
Icehouse,
Y Pants,
Duran Duran,
Guru Guru,
The Fortunes,
The Mummies,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crooked Eye,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Tremeloes,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fuzztones,
Angry Samoans,
Graham Central Station,
Camberwell Now,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Henry Cow,
Buzzcocks,
The Mojo Men,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Unrelated Segments,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Siglo XX,
Gregory Isaacs,
Khruangbin,
The Associates,
cv313,
Lalann,
Simply Red,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
CMW,
The Invisible,
Inner City,
The American Breed,
Scion,
A Certain Ratio,
The Litter,
Eurythmics,
Sun Ra,
Susan Cadogan,
The Smoke,
Monolake,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fire Engines,
Crispy Ambulance,
Avey Tare,
Von Mondo,
X-101,
Massinfluence,
The Velvet Underground,
the Slits,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tommy Roe,
This Heat,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.