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 Malaysia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar 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 The Dead C to the dance 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cymande,
Pere Ubu,
Nico,
Max Romeo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tropical Tobacco,
Danielle Patucci,
Rekid,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fear,
Youth Brigade,
The Techniques,
The Monochrome Set,
June Days,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Accadde A,
Scratch Acid,
Unrelated Segments,
X-102,
The Index,
Shuggie Otis,
Bauhaus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Yazoo,
U.S. Maple,
Scrapy,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kenny Larkin,
Joe Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yellowson,
Popol Vuh,
Kayak,
Oneida,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
PIL,
Brick,
Radio Birdman,
The Birthday Party,
Loose Ends,
Simply Red,
Guru Guru,
Saccharine Trust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rites of Spring,
Funky Four + One,
Swell Maps,
Marc Almond,
Section 25,
Patti Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Neon Judgement,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.