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 Swaziland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Sandy B,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Offenders,
The Blues Magoos,
Monks,
Lindisfarne,
Pantytec,
Ronnie Foster,
Dark Day,
Skarface,
The Cramps,
Henry Cow,
Wings,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rod Modell,
Joyce Sims,
ABBA,
Peter and Kerry,
Stiv Bators,
Franke,
X-102,
Scientists,
Nick Fraelich,
Heaven 17,
Juan Atkins,
Ultra Naté,
Public Enemy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marc Almond,
48th St. Collective,
E-Dancer,
The Invisible,
Absolute Body Control,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Livin' Joy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Womack,
Chris Corsano,
Thee Headcoats,
Donny Hathaway,
Alice Coltrane,
The Zeros,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Television Personalities,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
JFA,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Sherman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Todd Terry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Delon & Dalcan,
FM Einheit,
Arab on Radar,
The Techniques,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mark Hollis,
The American Breed,
Nils Olav,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.