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 Syria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 Ossler to the electroclash 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells 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?
The Golliwogs,
Scion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aural Exciters,
The Invisible,
Pylon,
Reuben Wilson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gregory Isaacs,
Arcadia,
Ronnie Foster,
Soft Cell,
Bill Near,
Erykah Badu,
Letta Mbulu,
Make Up,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Remains,
Flipper,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Trojans,
Todd Terry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeff Mills,
Sister Nancy,
Young Marble Giants,
Moebius,
Masters at Work,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Loose Ends,
The J.B.'s,
Magazine,
Robert Wyatt,
Dennis Brown,
The Young Rascals,
Joy Division,
The Real Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Albert Ayler,
Popol Vuh,
X-101,
Tom Boy,
Derrick May,
Harry Pussy,
Severed Heads,
Das Ding,
Ultravox,
Piero Umiliani,
The Last Poets,
Desert Stars,
The Happenings,
Fugazi,
Brothers Johnson,
Niagra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Arab on Radar,
Reagan Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
Lakeside,
Alice Coltrane,
Stetsasonic,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.