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 Ghana and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Moby Grape to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
48th St. Collective,
Loose Ends,
Minor Threat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marc Almond,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
The Associates,
Urselle,
Lungfish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quantec,
Marshall Jefferson,
Absolute Body Control,
Isaac Hayes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bang On A Can,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker,
The Victims,
Judy Mowatt,
Reagan Youth,
The Zeros,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Moody Blues,
Silicon Teens,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Standells,
Skriet,
Minny Pops,
The Trojans,
The Wake,
Terry Callier,
Eden Ahbez,
Supertramp,
Sällskapet,
Eurythmics,
Sam Rivers,
John Foxx,
The Cowsills,
kango's stein massive,
10cc,
Groovy Waters,
The United States of America,
Cluster,
Depeche Mode,
The Gun Club,
Clear Light,
Slave,
Aloha Tigers,
Pere Ubu,
Dawn Penn,
Q and Not U,
Man Parrish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Youth Brigade,
Tres Demented,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Pole,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.