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 Accra.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eric Copeland to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joe Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deadbeat,
Nik Kershaw,
Tommy Roe,
Shuggie Otis,
The Pretty Things,
Swell Maps,
Country Teasers,
The Golliwogs,
The Stooges,
New Age Steppers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Easy Going,
Ohio Players,
Deepchord,
John Foxx,
Davy DMX,
Smog,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ossler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aloha Tigers,
DJ Style,
Scion,
Sparks,
Sam Rivers,
H. Thieme,
ABC,
The Young Rascals,
The Gun Club,
Nick Fraelich,
New York Dolls,
Goldenarms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fall,
The Litter,
Freddie Wadling,
Lightning Bolt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Liliput,
Sarah Menescal,
Bob Dylan,
Slick Rick,
The United States of America,
Mr. Review,
The Gories,
June Days,
Roy Ayers,
Guru Guru,
The Misunderstood,
Suicide,
Peter & Gordon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Buckinghams,
Blossom Toes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minnie Riperton,
Chris Corsano,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.