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 Mauritius and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the grime 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Fat Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cramps,
Severed Heads,
Supertramp,
H. Thieme,
The Dead C,
Sound Behaviour,
Depeche Mode,
Gong,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
KRS-One,
Theoretical Girls,
John Holt,
Alison Limerick,
The Electric Prunes,
Basic Channel,
Adolescents,
Marshall Jefferson,
Althea and Donna,
The Motions,
Ultra Naté,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gladiators,
Radiopuhelimet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Five Americans,
Skaos,
Ornette Coleman,
T. Rex,
The Knickerbockers,
kango's stein massive,
Fatback Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Unwound,
Whodini,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Slackers,
10cc,
Dead Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Pagans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Heaven 17,
MC5,
Franke,
Mars,
Eric Copeland,
China Crisis,
Terry Callier,
Agitation Free,
Lungfish,
Rites of Spring,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fuzztones,
Khruangbin,
Scion,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.