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 Costa Rica and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the jazz 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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Evens,
T. Rex,
Rekid,
The Walker Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reagan Youth,
Junior Murvin,
The Searchers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
B.T. Express,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sex Pistols,
Lungfish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aswad,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Matthew Halsall,
Porter Ricks,
Groovy Waters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Patti Smith,
Monks,
Stetsasonic,
Funky Four + One,
Excepter,
Interpol,
Hardrive,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
The Birthday Party,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fat Boys,
Mars,
Siglo XX,
Piero Umiliani,
Tears for Fears,
Al Stewart,
The Fortunes,
Hasil Adkins,
Sparks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Red Krayola,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Neil Young,
Ponytail,
The Shadows of Knight,
R.M.O.,
Ken Boothe,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gladiators,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Slick Rick,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.