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 Bahamas and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kevin Saunderson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gabor Szabo,
Ornette Coleman,
Faraquet,
Eden Ahbez,
Moebius,
Man Parrish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ludus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Pus,
John Coltrane,
Donald Byrd,
Wolf Eyes,
Royal Trux,
Kerri Chandler,
Easy Going,
Barbara Tucker,
Depeche Mode,
Deakin,
Surgeon,
The Pop Group,
Radiohead,
The Mojo Men,
PIL,
Unrelated Segments,
Nick Fraelich,
John Foxx,
a-ha,
Lucky Dragons,
Suicide,
The Neon Judgement,
Cymande,
The Black Dice,
Aswad,
Duran Duran,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Angels of Light,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roxette,
The Toasters,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Velvet Underground,
Chris Corsano,
Gang Green,
Marmalade,
Malaria!,
Aloha Tigers,
The Invisible,
Sparks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David Bowie,
the Germs,
Pylon,
The Electric Prunes,
Vladislav Delay,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.