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 Comoros and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare 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 Wings to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Groovy Waters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Warsaw,
Shoche,
Kaleidoscope,
Von Mondo,
U.S. Maple,
Brick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Sight & Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
The Young Rascals,
Ultimate Spinach,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Index,
Symarip,
Gichy Dan,
The Blues Magoos,
The J.B.'s,
Man Eating Sloth,
David Bowie,
Alice Coltrane,
The Martian,
Popol Vuh,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pussy Galore,
The Count Five,
Byron Stingily,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Infiniti,
Pere Ubu,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Pus,
Saccharine Trust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Saints,
Audionom,
Babytalk,
Joey Negro,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Angels of Light,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ken Boothe,
Young Marble Giants,
Max Romeo,
John Holt,
Fatback Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wolf Eyes,
Boz Scaggs,
Dennis Brown,
X-101,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Slits,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.