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 Yemen and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 June of 44 to the funk 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
The Golliwogs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Icehouse,
Arcadia,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joey Negro,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dead Boys,
Wings,
China Crisis,
Q and Not U,
Nils Olav,
Buzzcocks,
Quadrant,
Hoover,
Minny Pops,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nico,
8 Eyed Spy,
Royal Trux,
ABBA,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bronski Beat,
The Seeds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Offenders,
The Trojans,
The Dead C,
Rotary Connection,
The Doors,
Mars,
Prince Buster,
June of 44,
The Five Americans,
Gichy Dan,
The Happenings,
Kaleidoscope,
Rapeman,
Black Bananas,
Brand Nubian,
Drive Like Jehu,
Youth Brigade,
Bush Tetras,
Make Up,
Altered Images,
CMW,
Faust,
Ossler,
The Grass Roots,
Whodini,
Sister Nancy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kas Product,
Heaven 17,
Grauzone,
Warren Ellis,
Livin' Joy,
Audionom,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.