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 Albania and from New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 DJ Sneak to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Sheep,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soulsonic Force,
Bobby Byrd,
Outsiders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alison Limerick,
Au Pairs,
Sound Behaviour,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Beau Brummels,
Steve Hackett,
Derrick May,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rufus Thomas,
Severed Heads,
K-Klass,
Aloha Tigers,
June of 44,
Pylon,
Juan Atkins,
Ultra Naté,
Tim Buckley,
the Human League,
Ken Boothe,
Eric Copeland,
Lyres,
The Doors,
Piero Umiliani,
The Slackers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter and Kerry,
Blossom Toes,
Flipper,
Buzzcocks,
Los Fastidios,
Von Mondo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dennis Brown,
Banda Bassotti,
Sam Rivers,
The Vogues,
Accadde A,
Cluster,
OOIOO,
Stiv Bators,
The Flesh Eaters,
Desert Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
Marmalade,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fugs,
ABBA,
Lucky Dragons,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Machine,
Talk Talk,
Nick Fraelich,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.