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 Uzbekistan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 Morten Harket to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Bootsy Collins,
Chrome,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Warsaw,
James White and The Blacks,
Pylon,
Hardrive,
Fela Kuti,
Jeff Lynne,
The United States of America,
Ohio Players,
Yazoo,
The Offenders,
Soft Cell,
The Pop Group,
Tom Boy,
Little Man,
Gang Starr,
Sister Nancy,
The Saints,
Niagra,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gong,
Vainqueur,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Josef K,
New York Dolls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Victims,
Alphaville,
The Five Americans,
Gang of Four,
Henry Cow,
Newcleus,
L. Decosne,
Ultravox,
Joey Negro,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lightning Bolt,
Slave,
Mr. Review,
World's Most,
Prince Buster,
Terry Callier,
Quadrant,
Suburban Knight,
cv313,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Lydon,
Qualms,
Agent Orange,
Steve Hackett,
John Cale,
Leonard Cohen,
Depeche Mode,
Essential Logic,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.