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 Tunisia and from Seoul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Television Personalities to the punk 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Charles Mingus,
Todd Rundgren,
Susan Cadogan,
Danielle Patucci,
Fela Kuti,
Spoonie Gee,
The Sonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jeff Mills,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Basic Channel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bootsy Collins,
R.M.O.,
Leonard Cohen,
The Music Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Al Stewart,
The Monks,
Dennis Brown,
The Neon Judgement,
Chris & Cosey,
The Young Rascals,
Rites of Spring,
The Litter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Inner City,
Spandau Ballet,
In Retrospect,
Outsiders,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yellowson,
Anthony Braxton,
The Divine Comedy,
Liliput,
Bizarre Inc.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moebius,
Alison Limerick,
DJ Style,
Rakim,
Matthew Bourne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gichy Dan,
Brick,
Jacob Miller,
Country Teasers,
Duran Duran,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
F. McDonald,
Magazine,
Marmalade,
Tears for Fears,
Monolake,
Marvin Gaye,
Soulsonic Force,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.