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 Indonesia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Wolf Eyes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Minny Pops,
David Axelrod,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott Heron,
Don Cherry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monolake,
Connie Case,
The Walker Brothers,
cv313,
Pagans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Cale,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sonic Youth,
Black Bananas,
Magma,
Glenn Branca,
Scratch Acid,
Section 25,
Joyce Sims,
Cheater Slicks,
The Five Americans,
Wolf Eyes,
Camberwell Now,
Kurtis Blow,
Hashim,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Animal Collective,
Oblivians,
The Offenders,
Scrapy,
Von Mondo,
The Real Kids,
Morten Harket,
Suicide,
Mark Hollis,
Pulsallama,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Saccharine Trust,
Dennis Brown,
Inner City,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Red Krayola,
Interpol,
The Tremeloes,
Eurythmics,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Invisible,
Bad Manners,
Ornette Coleman,
Toni Rubio,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.