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 Pakistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ultimate Spinach to the techno 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
The Birthday Party,
Steve Hackett,
Japan,
The Searchers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tubeway Army,
the Swans,
D'Angelo,
The Music Machine,
Lower 48,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Pop Group,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ornette Coleman,
Roger Hodgson,
The Happenings,
Roy Ayers,
The Invisible,
Crooked Eye,
Mr. Review,
Buzzcocks,
T.S.O.L.,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moody Blues,
Clear Light,
Half Japanese,
Al Stewart,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Agent Orange,
Nirvana,
Joe Finger,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slick Rick,
Ronnie Foster,
Cal Tjader,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Yazoo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Remains,
Black Pus,
Kayak,
Lakeside,
Circle Jerks,
Country Teasers,
Jerry's Kids,
Quando Quango,
Bronski Beat,
Donny Hathaway,
Scion,
Terry Callier,
Ken Boothe,
Kurtis Blow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
In Retrospect,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cybotron,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.