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 Russia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 Thompson Twins to the crunk 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The American Breed,
The Birthday Party,
Ronnie Foster,
Angry Samoans,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Star Department,
10cc,
Clear Light,
Yazoo,
Barbara Tucker,
Todd Rundgren,
John Lydon,
Pere Ubu,
New York Dolls,
B.T. Express,
The Fuzztones,
The Smoke,
Ohio Players,
Soft Machine,
Pantytec,
Lightning Bolt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bronski Beat,
Oblivians,
E-Dancer,
Matthew Halsall,
D'Angelo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Connie Case,
The Red Krayola,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lucky Dragons,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sonics,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultravox,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jandek,
Gang Starr,
The Techniques,
Chris Corsano,
The United States of America,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris & Cosey,
Amon Düül,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
R.M.O.,
Y Pants,
Drexciya,
Byron Stingily,
Mars,
Kenny Larkin,
Crime,
Crispian St. Peters,
Darondo,
Wally Richardson,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.