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 Peru and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sparks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Todd Terry,
Thee Headcoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Alison Limerick,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dave Gahan,
Dawn Penn,
Roy Ayers,
Minny Pops,
The Searchers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deakin,
Sun City Girls,
Parry Music,
Altered Images,
The Names,
Stereo Dub,
Outsiders,
The Real Kids,
Carl Craig,
The Sound,
The Tremeloes,
The Golliwogs,
Fad Gadget,
The Star Department,
Peter & Gordon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stiv Bators,
a-ha,
Josef K,
Eli Mardock,
Cybotron,
Japan,
Little Man,
Joe Finger,
Judy Mowatt,
Rekid,
Thompson Twins,
Moebius,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Derrick Morgan,
The Victims,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Raincoats,
Crispy Ambulance,
Buzzcocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barrington Levy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Smoke,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Move,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.