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 Hungary and from Spokane.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Neon Judgement to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Max Romeo,
Ken Boothe,
Lower 48,
Robert Hood,
In Retrospect,
Faust,
Sly & The Family Stone,
New Order,
K-Klass,
Bill Near,
The Evens,
Chrome,
Silicon Teens,
EPMD,
The Gap Band,
FM Einheit,
Livin' Joy,
Black Moon,
Oblivians,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fortunes,
Archie Shepp,
Patti Smith,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
a-ha,
Von Mondo,
Maurizio,
Arthur Verocai,
Banda Bassotti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Selecter,
Loose Ends,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
Matthew Bourne,
Kenny Larkin,
Man Parrish,
Ponytail,
Schoolly D,
Pagans,
Al Stewart,
Terry Callier,
Deadbeat,
The Blues Magoos,
Cheater Slicks,
Reagan Youth,
Urselle,
Lucky Dragons,
Sällskapet,
Shuggie Otis,
Gabor Szabo,
Dennis Brown,
cv313,
Gregory Isaacs,
Althea and Donna,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roxy Music,
Scan 7,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.