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 Palau and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Michael McDonald 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 Echospace to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Dead Boys,
Faust,
X-102,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Knickerbockers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun City Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harmonia,
Brothers Johnson,
Harry Pussy,
Funky Four + One,
John Holt,
Eric Copeland,
Angry Samoans,
Nils Olav,
The Blues Magoos,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Royal Trux,
Subhumans,
Scan 7,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rod Modell,
Bill Wells,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Walker Brothers,
Icehouse,
Hashim,
Crime,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dawn Penn,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jerry's Kids,
Radiohead,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Freddie Wadling,
The Kinks,
Barry Ungar,
Curtis Mayfield,
Adolescents,
Technova,
The Young Rascals,
Television Personalities,
The Trojans,
Minutemen,
Lee Hazlewood,
A Certain Ratio,
cv313,
Warren Ellis,
Popol Vuh,
Donald Byrd,
Ronnie Foster,
The Standells,
Das Ding,
The Durutti Column,
Minny Pops,
Kas Product,
Main Source,
Eddi Front,
Scratch Acid,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.