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 Botswana and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 H. Thieme to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
The Velvet Underground,
Pantaleimon,
Steve Hackett,
Lee Hazlewood,
Slick Rick,
Gang Gang Dance,
B.T. Express,
Inner City,
Crash Course in Science,
Nas,
Warsaw,
Yaz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marc Almond,
Trumans Water,
Graham Central Station,
Urselle,
The Black Dice,
Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
the Bar-Kays,
Derrick Morgan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harry Pussy,
Icehouse,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Blackbyrds,
Robert Wyatt,
Roxy Music,
Intrusion,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minnie Riperton,
Connie Case,
Robert Hood,
Cameo,
the Germs,
Index,
Suburban Knight,
Eurythmics,
Alton Ellis,
New Order,
Simply Red,
Bill Near,
Rotary Connection,
The Birthday Party,
The Residents,
The J.B.'s,
Kas Product,
Albert Ayler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joe Smooth,
Sister Nancy,
Roger Hodgson,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Suicide,
The Red Krayola,
Anakelly,
Tres Demented,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.