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 Equatorial Guinea and from Copenhagen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sandy B to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
The Toasters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Coltrane,
Saccharine Trust,
Cybotron,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gun Club,
Eurythmics,
Skaos,
Absolute Body Control,
Eve St. Jones,
The J.B.'s,
Deepchord,
Niagra,
Mandrill,
Michelle Simonal,
Peter and Kerry,
Animal Collective,
Pussy Galore,
Public Image Ltd.,
Agitation Free,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Country Teasers,
Scrapy,
Parry Music,
Lindisfarne,
Tom Boy,
Basic Channel,
The Moody Blues,
Bluetip,
Charles Mingus,
Technova,
Brothers Johnson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barry Ungar,
The New Christs,
Wire,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
E-Dancer,
The Evens,
The Misunderstood,
Fela Kuti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sight & Sound,
Rotary Connection,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Chris & Cosey,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
Henry Cow,
Ohio Players,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.