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 Togo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Index to the grunge 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Can,
Delon & Dalcan,
Todd Rundgren,
World's Most,
H. Thieme,
R.M.O.,
Carl Craig,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Dual Sessions,
ABC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ice-T,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cal Tjader,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Josef K,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Quantec,
Peter & Gordon,
F. McDonald,
Gichy Dan,
Donny Hathaway,
Reagan Youth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Almond,
T. Rex,
Jacques Brel,
Tubeway Army,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare,
The New Christs,
Albert Ayler,
Easy Going,
Adolescents,
Warsaw,
Panda Bear,
Y Pants,
Aaron Thompson,
the Slits,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Mandrill,
The Residents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wally Richardson,
Stetsasonic,
The Grass Roots,
Freddie Wadling,
Swell Maps,
Zapp,
The Names,
Patti Smith,
Barrington Levy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Urselle,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sun City Girls,
Lalo Schifrin,
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.