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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Arcadia to the crunk 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
In Retrospect,
Mantronix,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Juan Atkins,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Mojo Men,
Magazine,
Bill Near,
Icehouse,
Michelle Simonal,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Holt,
Fad Gadget,
Stiv Bators,
Model 500,
Bauhaus,
Shuggie Otis,
Minny Pops,
Sun City Girls,
DNA,
Fatback Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eve St. Jones,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Pop Group,
kango's stein massive,
Reagan Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Fear,
DJ Style,
Kayak,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Sheep,
Camouflage,
ABBA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Bananas,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kenny Larkin,
Country Teasers,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Green,
U.S. Maple,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
New York Dolls,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick May,
Ornette Coleman,
The Slits,
Unwound,
Ice-T,
Monolake,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.