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 Cameroon and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Angry Samoans to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bizarre Inc.,
The American Breed,
The Real Kids,
Fluxion,
Minutemen,
Negative Approach,
Moss Icon,
Jawbox,
The Pretty Things,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ossler,
Wire,
the Slits,
Mark Hollis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pantytec,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cal Tjader,
Ken Boothe,
Fugazi,
Slave,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Swans,
Alison Limerick,
Tubeway Army,
The Music Machine,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Index,
Kas Product,
The Fire Engines,
Sparks,
Sugar Minott,
Duran Duran,
Lucky Dragons,
Hoover,
The Red Krayola,
Barry Ungar,
Todd Rundgren,
Boredoms,
The Raincoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roy Ayers,
Flipper,
Toni Rubio,
The Searchers,
James White and The Blacks,
Echospace,
David Bowie,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Black Dice,
Maleditus Sound,
Graham Central Station,
David McCallum,
Hot Snakes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Absolute Body Control,
Charles Mingus,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.