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 Costa Rica and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the crunk 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
Boz Scaggs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aaron Thompson,
Das Ding,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Carl Craig,
Make Up,
DJ Sneak,
Joe Smooth,
Colin Newman,
Derrick May,
Mission of Burma,
Pantaleimon,
Trumans Water,
The Dead C,
The Invisible,
The Divine Comedy,
Sixth Finger,
John Foxx,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Standells,
Maurizio,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alison Limerick,
48th St. Collective,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bill Wells,
Joy Division,
Lou Reed,
The Grass Roots,
the Soft Cell,
Audionom,
Graham Central Station,
Pierre Henry,
Bluetip,
Donny Hathaway,
Popol Vuh,
Warsaw,
Aloha Tigers,
Lightning Bolt,
OOIOO,
Au Pairs,
Ornette Coleman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Glambeats Corp.,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eli Mardock,
Brothers Johnson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ultravox,
Oblivians,
DJ Style,
Scientists,
The Residents,
The Sound,
Soft Cell,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cure,
The Durutti Column,
Angry Samoans,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.