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 Comoros and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kayak to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Jeff Lynne,
Josef K,
Darondo,
Tres Demented,
Eddi Front,
Pulsallama,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Sonics,
The Sound,
Slick Rick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Khruangbin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cecil Taylor,
Erasure,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Reuben Wilson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Theoretical Girls,
Hoover,
Tears for Fears,
Sarah Menescal,
the Slits,
The Mojo Men,
Eric Copeland,
Bootsy Collins,
Swans,
Livin' Joy,
The Fire Engines,
Stiv Bators,
Whodini,
The Durutti Column,
Deadbeat,
Chrome,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Pretty Things,
Juan Atkins,
Quantec,
The Litter,
The Saints,
Skriet,
Sparks,
Audionom,
The Count Five,
Mark Hollis,
Idris Muhammad,
Urselle,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Technova,
Yazoo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Duran Duran,
Suicide,
CMW,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barry Ungar,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.