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 Sri Lanka and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gerry Rafferty to the techno 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Victims,
The Names,
DJ Sneak,
Michelle Simonal,
Subhumans,
Barbara Tucker,
Marine Girls,
The Invisible,
The Motions,
Ultravox,
Black Flag,
Monks,
JFA,
Henry Cow,
Procol Harum,
Mark Hollis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deakin,
The Monks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oneida,
The Trojans,
Scientists,
Reagan Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
The Five Americans,
Swans,
Hot Snakes,
DJ Style,
The Moody Blues,
Yellowson,
The Toasters,
The Busters,
Public Image Ltd.,
UT,
Man Parrish,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grey Daturas,
Agitation Free,
The Star Department,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Altered Images,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
L. Decosne,
Pierre Henry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cameo,
Rosa Yemen,
Brothers Johnson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ossler,
Au Pairs,
Sound Behaviour,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.