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 Thailand and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
Davy DMX,
Masters at Work,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cowsills,
Barbara Tucker,
Skriet,
Gang Gang Dance,
In Retrospect,
Magazine,
The New Christs,
The Gladiators,
The Tremeloes,
Schoolly D,
Shuggie Otis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hoover,
The Vogues,
Ossler,
A Certain Ratio,
ABC,
Lucky Dragons,
Graham Central Station,
Can,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Technova,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Reagan Youth,
The J.B.'s,
Wally Richardson,
Todd Rundgren,
Pussy Galore,
Pantytec,
Soft Cell,
Smog,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare,
FM Einheit,
Underground Resistance,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Teasers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The United States of America,
The Smiths,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Barrington Levy,
Hasil Adkins,
Nirvana,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Infiniti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Curtis Mayfield,
Icehouse,
Sixth Finger,
Franke,
Sight & Sound,
Henry Cow,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.