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 Morocco and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Davy DMX to the techno 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Newcleus,
Patti Smith,
The Busters,
Blake Baxter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brick,
Yazoo,
Con Funk Shun,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nirvana,
Easy Going,
The Dirtbombs,
Wolf Eyes,
Reuben Wilson,
Rapeman,
Electric Prunes,
Rufus Thomas,
Chris Corsano,
Chrome,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Divine Comedy,
The Red Krayola,
Banda Bassotti,
Leonard Cohen,
Sister Nancy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
The Black Dice,
Quando Quango,
The Beau Brummels,
D'Angelo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Pretty Things,
Crash Course in Science,
Mission of Burma,
Goldenarms,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Foxx,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Star Department,
Michelle Simonal,
Funkadelic,
Sugar Minott,
UT,
Andrew Hill,
Pagans,
The Golliwogs,
The Fire Engines,
Scrapy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
JFA,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Sheep,
Wasted Youth,
Aural Exciters,
Model 500,
Grey Daturas,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.