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 Bulgaria and from Bologna.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Blues Magoos 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jerry's Kids,
Bootsy Collins,
A Certain Ratio,
the Swans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sex Pistols,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wolf Eyes,
Nils Olav,
The Kinks,
Gerry Rafferty,
X-Ray Spex,
T. Rex,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Vogues,
Harry Pussy,
Visage,
Sun Ra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cheater Slicks,
The Sound,
Ken Boothe,
cv313,
Flash Fearless,
Skarface,
The Last Poets,
The American Breed,
Nick Fraelich,
New Order,
Terrestrial Tones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gang of Four,
Todd Rundgren,
Gastr Del Sol,
Glenn Branca,
Ultra Naté,
Ronan,
Yellowson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Zapp,
Donald Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Theoretical Girls,
Crime,
Deakin,
The Dirtbombs,
Interpol,
Jesper Dahlback,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Vainqueur,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scott Walker,
Judy Mowatt,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cramps,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.