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 Zambia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb 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 Television to the funk 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Smog,
Sixth Finger,
The Names,
Lou Reed,
Ituana,
Suburban Knight,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pussy Galore,
Soulsonic Force,
the Sonics,
Magazine,
Subhumans,
Mo-Dettes,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Association,
Altered Images,
Alison Limerick,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Talk Talk,
Faraquet,
Archie Shepp,
The Sonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eden Ahbez,
Josef K,
The Shadows of Knight,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Pus,
Kayak,
Patti Smith,
Metal Thangz,
The American Breed,
Marine Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Blake Baxter,
Suicide,
Flipper,
The Litter,
Faust,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joyce Sims,
Minnie Riperton,
Darondo,
Pantaleimon,
Toni Rubio,
E-Dancer,
The Last Poets,
Popol Vuh,
Saccharine Trust,
Desert Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Radio Birdman,
Leonard Cohen,
Idris Muhammad,
Hoover,
Cybotron,
New Order,
Nico,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.