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 Guatemala and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wasted Youth to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Man Parrish,
Wasted Youth,
The Barracudas,
The Dead C,
The Mummies,
T. Rex,
The Evens,
Leonard Cohen,
Altered Images,
World's Most,
Sonic Youth,
Aloha Tigers,
The Angels of Light,
The Smiths,
Pussy Galore,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Slits,
June of 44,
Eden Ahbez,
DJ Style,
Severed Heads,
Joensuu 1685,
Blancmange,
The Beau Brummels,
Radiohead,
The Victims,
Television,
Agitation Free,
K-Klass,
The Fall,
Laurel Aitken,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Blake Baxter,
Pantaleimon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Can,
The Stooges,
Crime,
Davy DMX,
Reagan Youth,
Toni Rubio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sister Nancy,
Fugazi,
Rotary Connection,
Barry Ungar,
Sugar Minott,
Chrome,
Soft Machine,
Loose Ends,
The United States of America,
Soft Cell,
Gang Starr,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Raincoats,
Harry Pussy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.