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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Iggy Pop to the funk 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Connie Case,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Hardrive,
Danielle Patucci,
Janne Schatter,
The American Breed,
Bush Tetras,
Letta Mbulu,
The Move,
Pantaleimon,
Babytalk,
Dead Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Kaleidoscope,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Piero Umiliani,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eden Ahbez,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marine Girls,
E-Dancer,
the Association,
Josef K,
The Gories,
Altered Images,
Susan Cadogan,
Nirvana,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Sheep,
The Durutti Column,
Gichy Dan,
Thee Headcoats,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arthur Verocai,
Derrick Morgan,
Avey Tare,
Mandrill,
The Searchers,
In Retrospect,
Lower 48,
The Red Krayola,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Erasure,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Youth Brigade,
Quando Quango,
Pet Shop Boys,
DJ Style,
John Foxx,
Deadbeat,
Donald Byrd,
Animal Collective,
Sun Ra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pussy Galore,
Sparks,
Section 25,
Patti Smith,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.