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 Pakistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the rap 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Circle Jerks,
Boredoms,
Country Teasers,
Goldenarms,
Icehouse,
Howard Jones,
Average White Band,
Nirvana,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Malaria!,
James White and The Blacks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Soul Sonic Force,
Procol Harum,
Monks,
Lou Christie,
Matthew Bourne,
Robert Hood,
LL Cool J,
The New Christs,
Warren Ellis,
Tres Demented,
Rhythm & Sound,
The J.B.'s,
The Sonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
Niagra,
Neu!,
The Mummies,
The American Breed,
48th St. Collective,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Associates,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Beau Brummels,
Lightning Bolt,
Todd Rundgren,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ronan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Enemy,
Wings,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sister Nancy,
Wolf Eyes,
Livin' Joy,
Unwound,
Sun Ra,
Minor Threat,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bauhaus,
Joey Negro,
Roxy Music,
The Residents,
Silicon Teens,
Sound Behaviour,
Aural Exciters,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.