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 New Zealand and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Electric Prunes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
The Pretty Things,
Ultravox,
Monolake,
L. Decosne,
Eden Ahbez,
Essential Logic,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric Copeland,
The Durutti Column,
Mo-Dettes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fugs,
Mr. Review,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Duran Duran,
Lalann,
The Techniques,
Todd Rundgren,
Negative Approach,
Bad Manners,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Electric Light Orchestra,
E-Dancer,
Ronnie Foster,
Deakin,
The Leaves,
Livin' Joy,
Oneida,
Stockholm Monsters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radio Birdman,
Moss Icon,
The Grass Roots,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Cramps,
Aswad,
The Gun Club,
Little Man,
John Cale,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lower 48,
Judy Mowatt,
Rakim,
Maleditus Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultimate Spinach,
F. McDonald,
Khruangbin,
The Angels of Light,
Heaven 17,
Sister Nancy,
Wolf Eyes,
Jeff Lynne,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Outsiders,
Sly & The Family Stone,
CMW,
Lindisfarne,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.