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 Kosovo and from New York.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 the Soft Cell to the grunge 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Star Department,
Flipper,
Cheater Slicks,
Colin Newman,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Harry Pussy,
Matthew Bourne,
E-Dancer,
The Mojo Men,
Qualms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Section 25,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
Brick,
Ultra Naté,
Big Daddy Kane,
The New Christs,
Fear,
Frankie Knuckles,
Severed Heads,
Tres Demented,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
La Düsseldorf,
Los Fastidios,
Parry Music,
Angry Samoans,
Guru Guru,
Cluster,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Camouflage,
The Divine Comedy,
Ten City,
Japan,
Model 500,
Man Parrish,
Brass Construction,
Wolf Eyes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Sonics,
Youth Brigade,
Deadbeat,
Unwound,
Lindisfarne,
The Music Machine,
ABBA,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marine Girls,
Swans,
EPMD,
Byron Stingily,
Animal Collective,
Inner City,
Donny Hathaway,
Mission of Burma,
The Slits,
Con Funk Shun,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.