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 Guinea-Bissau and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Albert Ayler to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Henry Cow,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Reuben Wilson,
Gang Green,
Matthew Halsall,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Au Pairs,
The Pop Group,
Lindisfarne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Brass Construction,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Real Kids,
the Human League,
Clear Light,
The Fire Engines,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Bananas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pussy Galore,
Qualms,
48th St. Collective,
Pagans,
Fatback Band,
Malaria!,
Livin' Joy,
Josef K,
Byron Stingily,
Pantytec,
The Pretty Things,
Oneida,
Desert Stars,
Hoover,
The Durutti Column,
H. Thieme,
UT,
The Fugs,
Lightning Bolt,
Idris Muhammad,
Sugar Minott,
Rod Modell,
The Mojo Men,
David Bowie,
Bronski Beat,
Masters at Work,
Sister Nancy,
ABC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Flipper,
Jesper Dahlback,
Y Pants,
Mantronix,
Rekid,
The Evens,
Wire,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.