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 Samoa and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Trumans Water to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
The Slits,
Organ,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hoover,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Moleskins,
Erykah Badu,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Names,
Flipper,
the Association,
the Swans,
Cameo,
Deepchord,
Kevin Saunderson,
Man Parrish,
Lungfish,
The Remains,
Ultravox,
Barry Ungar,
Japan,
Bauhaus,
Sun City Girls,
The Vogues,
Pierre Henry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Arcadia,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Residents,
Radio Birdman,
Gang of Four,
Anakelly,
Tres Demented,
Inner City,
Steve Hackett,
The Real Kids,
Slick Rick,
Surgeon,
Dual Sessions,
Sex Pistols,
Aaron Thompson,
Yazoo,
Morten Harket,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Erasure,
Reagan Youth,
Sparks,
Zapp,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Foxx,
Animal Collective,
Skaos,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Count Five,
The Blackbyrds,
Sexual Harrassment,
Negative Approach,
H. Thieme,
Nils Olav,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.