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 Belgium and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
ABC,
Crispy Ambulance,
OOIOO,
Glenn Branca,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rufus Thomas,
Sarah Menescal,
Ituana,
Gang of Four,
Arthur Verocai,
The Standells,
The Litter,
The Sonics,
Bill Near,
Gichy Dan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Bar-Kays,
Pierre Henry,
Roger Hodgson,
Nick Fraelich,
Eurythmics,
the Human League,
The Blackbyrds,
Whodini,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jacob Miller,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Echospace,
Fad Gadget,
Spoonie Gee,
Dark Day,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Judy Mowatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Unrelated Segments,
Porter Ricks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Loose Ends,
Grauzone,
Glambeats Corp.,
Guru Guru,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Red Krayola,
UT,
Man Eating Sloth,
Depeche Mode,
Skaos,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronan,
Moby Grape,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Flag,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Harmonia,
Isaac Hayes,
Danielle Patucci,
Robert Hood,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.