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 Uzbekistan and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Cluster to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
T.S.O.L.,
Arcadia,
Crime,
Pantaleimon,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare,
AZ,
Theoretical Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Hashim,
Ohio Players,
Swell Maps,
10cc,
Ornette Coleman,
Blake Baxter,
EPMD,
T. Rex,
Yaz,
The Cowsills,
The Black Dice,
Fluxion,
Jerry's Kids,
Symarip,
Camberwell Now,
Alphaville,
Youth Brigade,
Judy Mowatt,
The New Christs,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Litter,
The Moleskins,
Amon Düül,
Sparks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thee Headcoats,
CMW,
Sällskapet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter & Gordon,
The Tremeloes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Outsiders,
Sandy B,
Dual Sessions,
Crooked Eye,
Heaven 17,
B.T. Express,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Foxx,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kaleidoscope,
F. McDonald,
Talk Talk,
Urselle,
the Soft Cell,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Five Americans,
Adolescents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aloha Tigers,
Warsaw,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.