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 Kazakhstan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grime 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Stockholm Monsters,
Negative Approach,
Robert Hood,
Boredoms,
Nico,
Donny Hathaway,
The Evens,
Pagans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Livin' Joy,
Hasil Adkins,
Q and Not U,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dead C,
The Real Kids,
Supertramp,
the Swans,
June of 44,
Dennis Brown,
Ponytail,
Todd Terry,
Ken Boothe,
Eric Copeland,
Johnny Clarke,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joe Finger,
Section 25,
John Cale,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gories,
Arthur Verocai,
Alison Limerick,
Lou Reed,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warsaw,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flipper,
Byron Stingily,
The Golliwogs,
Fear,
Qualms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Excepter,
Smog,
a-ha,
X-Ray Spex,
Stiv Bators,
Sparks,
Banda Bassotti,
David Bowie,
In Retrospect,
H. Thieme,
Magma,
The Smoke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.