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 Lithuania and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Pantaleimon,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fortunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tommy Roe,
La Düsseldorf,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minny Pops,
Arthur Verocai,
John Coltrane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yazoo,
Malaria!,
Jeff Lynne,
Half Japanese,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The American Breed,
Niagra,
Bobby Sherman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Danielle Patucci,
Cheater Slicks,
Aural Exciters,
cv313,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Intrusion,
Stereo Dub,
Yusef Lateef,
Fat Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
The Searchers,
The Blues Magoos,
Robert Wyatt,
Silicon Teens,
Althea and Donna,
Public Enemy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Teasers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
David McCallum,
Shoche,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Das Ding,
a-ha,
Black Pus,
Visage,
The Sound,
the Normal,
Sun City Girls,
Todd Rundgren,
Matthew Bourne,
Bauhaus,
Godley & Creme,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Star Department,
Derrick Morgan,
The Beau Brummels,
Bizarre Inc.,
Goldenarms,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.