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 Tuvalu and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron 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 Soft Cell to the punk 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
The Blues Magoos,
Livin' Joy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Christie,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
10cc,
Connie Case,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Bananas,
Sight & Sound,
X-101,
Scott Walker,
The Barracudas,
Tim Buckley,
Matthew Bourne,
Rites of Spring,
The Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
a-ha,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fugazi,
Delta 5,
Amon Düül,
Rotary Connection,
Aural Exciters,
Half Japanese,
John Coltrane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Graham Central Station,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
Mad Mike,
Janne Schatter,
David McCallum,
The Raincoats,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Monochrome Set,
Yellowson,
Rufus Thomas,
Cheater Slicks,
The Busters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wolf Eyes,
The Searchers,
Derrick May,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ten City,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smoke,
The Zeros,
The Seeds,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Techniques,
Brass Construction,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.