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 Colombia and from Tehran.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 harpsichord 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the dance 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe 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?
JFA,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marmalade,
The Motions,
Bobby Womack,
The Dead C,
CMW,
Gang Green,
the Bar-Kays,
Eden Ahbez,
Von Mondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Swans,
The Fall,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
June Days,
Janne Schatter,
Donald Byrd,
E-Dancer,
Soulsonic Force,
Wire,
The Neon Judgement,
Guru Guru,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Terrestrial Tones,
Steve Hackett,
Iggy Pop,
Technova,
Bill Wells,
Pierre Henry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
World's Most,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric B and Rakim,
T.S.O.L.,
The Divine Comedy,
the Association,
Sight & Sound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultravox,
Gabor Szabo,
Chris Corsano,
The American Breed,
Bluetip,
KRS-One,
kango's stein massive,
Marcia Griffiths,
T. Rex,
R.M.O.,
Tres Demented,
Suburban Knight,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fear,
The Mummies,
Alphaville,
The Birthday Party,
Dawn Penn,
The Busters,
Ornette Coleman,
Stereo Dub,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.