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 Kiribati and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Gang of Four to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swans,
H. Thieme,
Basic Channel,
FM Einheit,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nils Olav,
Max Romeo,
Depeche Mode,
Boredoms,
The Monks,
Kas Product,
Oneida,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Supertramp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brick,
The Birthday Party,
The Divine Comedy,
Infiniti,
Jawbox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Derrick May,
The Evens,
Bang On A Can,
Janne Schatter,
Outsiders,
Faraquet,
Colin Newman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Japan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
Metal Thangz,
Interpol,
Ten City,
Cameo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Peter and Kerry,
Moebius,
Slave,
Livin' Joy,
Whodini,
Talk Talk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grauzone,
T.S.O.L.,
Visage,
Maurizio,
Matthew Bourne,
Tubeway Army,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fela Kuti,
The Seeds,
Saccharine Trust,
Susan Cadogan,
Porter Ricks,
X-101,
New York Dolls,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.