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 Malta and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Malaria! to the jazz 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Boredoms,
Kaleidoscope,
PIL,
Roy Ayers,
The Blues Magoos,
Yaz,
the Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Reuben Wilson,
Suicide,
DJ Sneak,
Skaos,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
June Days,
Rapeman,
Crooked Eye,
Pulsallama,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sonic Youth,
Rosa Yemen,
The Young Rascals,
Jeff Mills,
Stiv Bators,
The Mojo Men,
Camberwell Now,
Thee Headcoats,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
R.M.O.,
Khruangbin,
Sparks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Skarface,
Dark Day,
Ornette Coleman,
Bauhaus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Drexciya,
Young Marble Giants,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Junior Murvin,
Radio Birdman,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun City Girls,
Josef K,
The Monks,
The Walker Brothers,
Mars,
The Standells,
The Victims,
Morten Harket,
Davy DMX,
Rites of Spring,
a-ha,
The Raincoats,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hoover,
Circle Jerks,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Foxx,
The Wake,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.