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 Bahamas and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 Scientists to the rock 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
The Litter,
Lucky Dragons,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick Morgan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Neon Judgement,
The Star Department,
Ludus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Visage,
In Retrospect,
Dual Sessions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Peter & Gordon,
Bush Tetras,
Yazoo,
The Mummies,
The Angels of Light,
Alphaville,
The Selecter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Vogues,
Hot Snakes,
Television Personalities,
The Doors,
Agitation Free,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amon Düül,
Pharoah Sanders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mars,
The Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
Cheater Slicks,
Fela Kuti,
The Smiths,
The Young Rascals,
The Knickerbockers,
Don Cherry,
Scan 7,
The Gun Club,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
China Crisis,
Scientists,
Whodini,
Saccharine Trust,
Grauzone,
the Bar-Kays,
The Remains,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sun City Girls,
Massinfluence,
Albert Ayler,
John Lydon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.