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 Korea North and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Morten Harket to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Steve Hackett,
Spoonie Gee,
The Trojans,
Reuben Wilson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Groovy Waters,
Zero Boys,
Gang Starr,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fuzztones,
These Immortal Souls,
Dennis Brown,
John Lydon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Unwound,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Busters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
L. Decosne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Slick Rick,
Ituana,
The Black Dice,
Mantronix,
The Names,
Minor Threat,
Bronski Beat,
Marine Girls,
Lindisfarne,
Youth Brigade,
UT,
Boredoms,
Todd Rundgren,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arab on Radar,
Dead Boys,
Jawbox,
Lyres,
Brick,
The Velvet Underground,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Television,
Patti Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Little Man,
Country Teasers,
The Standells,
Fear,
Bauhaus,
the Normal,
Fluxion,
Eden Ahbez,
Junior Murvin,
Animal Collective,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.