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 Israel and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 Thompson Twins to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Erasure,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Whodini,
Sex Pistols,
Tom Boy,
Anthony Braxton,
The Five Americans,
Steve Hackett,
Rosa Yemen,
Charles Mingus,
Banda Bassotti,
Lucky Dragons,
Average White Band,
Kaleidoscope,
MC5,
Fat Boys,
Patti Smith,
cv313,
Vainqueur,
Qualms,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Stereo Dub,
Babytalk,
U.S. Maple,
Marcia Griffiths,
X-Ray Spex,
Negative Approach,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Max Romeo,
Pere Ubu,
The Fire Engines,
Brand Nubian,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric Dolphy,
The Smoke,
KRS-One,
Bluetip,
Bill Near,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harry Pussy,
Ken Boothe,
The Buckinghams,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Goldenarms,
The Young Rascals,
Los Fastidios,
The Victims,
The Fall,
Yusef Lateef,
Hasil Adkins,
Scott Walker,
Second Layer,
Alison Limerick,
Tres Demented,
Minnie Riperton,
The Sound,
The Fugs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.