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 Eritrea and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bob Dylan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
R.M.O.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tomorrow,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Cell,
Sparks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deadbeat,
Rufus Thomas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Görl,
Minny Pops,
Warsaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sugar Minott,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Todd Terry,
The Neon Judgement,
Oblivians,
Rosa Yemen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fatback Band,
The Fall,
Pierre Henry,
Albert Ayler,
Donny Hathaway,
Infiniti,
The Modern Lovers,
Faust,
The Trojans,
Blancmange,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arcadia,
X-101,
New Age Steppers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Real Kids,
David McCallum,
Hashim,
Dave Gahan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Young Rascals,
Main Source,
Mad Mike,
Dennis Brown,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
PIL,
Spandau Ballet,
Roxy Music,
Ken Boothe,
Funkadelic,
Hoover,
Jesper Dahlback,
Trumans Water,
The Grass Roots,
Cal Tjader,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.