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 Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Big Daddy Kane to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Golliwogs,
Angry Samoans,
The Selecter,
Rotary Connection,
Mandrill,
Nils Olav,
F. McDonald,
Ken Boothe,
Ultimate Spinach,
MDC,
Sex Pistols,
The Gap Band,
U.S. Maple,
the Slits,
Idris Muhammad,
Connie Case,
Cybotron,
Bush Tetras,
Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kas Product,
Hardrive,
Barry Ungar,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radio Birdman,
Desert Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Massinfluence,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
New Order,
The Fuzztones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Walker Brothers,
Heaven 17,
K-Klass,
Newcleus,
Suicide,
The Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marmalade,
The Last Poets,
Quando Quango,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Grey Daturas,
Ash Ra Tempel,
David Axelrod,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scion,
Lucky Dragons,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Neon Judgement,
Moebius,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.