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 Seychelles and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
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 mellotron 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 One Last Wish to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fugs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dead C,
the Association,
Lungfish,
Bobby Sherman,
Alphaville,
Parry Music,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Swans,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Byrd,
ABBA,
The Monks,
Masters at Work,
The Standells,
Altered Images,
PIL,
Qualms,
Con Funk Shun,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Seeds,
Pere Ubu,
Robert Görl,
Shuggie Otis,
Joey Negro,
Eli Mardock,
The Sonics,
Q and Not U,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lalo Schifrin,
Agitation Free,
Main Source,
Erasure,
The Evens,
Negative Approach,
Yazoo,
Dead Boys,
The Stooges,
Bizarre Inc.,
cv313,
The Raincoats,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Khruangbin,
Minny Pops,
The Five Americans,
Tom Boy,
The Index,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The J.B.'s,
Pet Shop Boys,
Procol Harum,
Jawbox,
Subhumans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Archie Shepp,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.