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 Ghana and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Calgary.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the theremin 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 T.S.O.L. to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Gladiators,
Jacques Brel,
Danielle Patucci,
The Red Krayola,
Lucky Dragons,
X-102,
The Music Machine,
The Busters,
Ornette Coleman,
Scientists,
Robert Hood,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Derrick May,
Suicide,
New York Dolls,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bob Dylan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yellowson,
Fear,
Brass Construction,
Marvin Gaye,
Masters at Work,
The New Christs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joy Division,
The Walker Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The United States of America,
Dark Day,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Spoonie Gee,
Tubeway Army,
Hardrive,
Dual Sessions,
Aural Exciters,
Pulsallama,
John Lydon,
Howard Jones,
Rapeman,
Grauzone,
Angry Samoans,
Black Flag,
Swans,
Scrapy,
Section 25,
Parry Music,
OOIOO,
Pole,
The Last Poets,
Maurizio,
Crash Course in Science,
Shuggie Otis,
The Stooges,
Electric Prunes,
Minny Pops,
Aloha Tigers,
The Barracudas,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.