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 Belarus and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Roxy Music to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Depeche Mode,
Yellowson,
FM Einheit,
Radiohead,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ohio Players,
Gang of Four,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxette,
The Saints,
Mandrill,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Vainqueur,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fuzztones,
Girls At Our Best!,
Graham Central Station,
Nils Olav,
Groovy Waters,
Kurtis Blow,
Rosa Yemen,
Bill Near,
Marc Almond,
Television Personalities,
Ronan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Schoolly D,
Aaron Thompson,
Sugar Minott,
World's Most,
Sandy B,
Shuggie Otis,
Davy DMX,
The Seeds,
Quando Quango,
Lightning Bolt,
Arab on Radar,
Minutemen,
Fear,
June Days,
Excepter,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Moody Blues,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fortunes,
Unrelated Segments,
Eve St. Jones,
Magazine,
Kayak,
Dark Day,
Harry Pussy,
Tim Buckley,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marmalade,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Warren Ellis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hashim,
Adolescents,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.