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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar 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 Pulsallama to the punk 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
CMW,
Flamin' Groovies,
Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Enemy,
Sun Ra,
Lindisfarne,
Goldenarms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun City Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Marc Almond,
Harmonia,
Chris & Cosey,
Brick,
Qualms,
The Fire Engines,
The Smiths,
The Durutti Column,
Derrick May,
Boz Scaggs,
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs,
The Gladiators,
Lou Reed,
Silicon Teens,
Fluxion,
The Real Kids,
Al Stewart,
Y Pants,
John Lydon,
Bush Tetras,
Frankie Knuckles,
Duran Duran,
Pantaleimon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roxette,
K-Klass,
The Electric Prunes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Moleskins,
Sixth Finger,
Jerry's Kids,
Faust,
Scrapy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Circle Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soft Machine,
Agent Orange,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultra Naté,
Bizarre Inc.,
Royal Trux,
Robert Hood,
Alphaville,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.