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 Tonga and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grunge 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
Rekid,
Faust,
Ultravox,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scan 7,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Dirtbombs,
The Motions,
Wolf Eyes,
Amon Düül,
PIL,
Ice-T,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fat Boys,
Crooked Eye,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Smoke,
Skarface,
The Last Poets,
Mo-Dettes,
Charles Mingus,
Nils Olav,
Hardrive,
Trumans Water,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Grey Daturas,
Warsaw,
Ronan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Masters at Work,
The Move,
T.S.O.L.,
Aural Exciters,
Arab on Radar,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Gories,
KRS-One,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalann,
Jeff Lynne,
The Associates,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Franke,
Gabor Szabo,
the Slits,
Rod Modell,
Mandrill,
Supertramp,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dawn Penn,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roger Hodgson,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.