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 Israel and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 rock 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
AZ,
Heaven 17,
Ronan,
Suicide,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Michelle Simonal,
Chris & Cosey,
The Raincoats,
The Durutti Column,
Blancmange,
Siglo XX,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Smiths,
The Gories,
The Knickerbockers,
the Bar-Kays,
48th St. Collective,
Massinfluence,
Ossler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Warsaw,
Peter & Gordon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crime,
Flipper,
Intrusion,
Scion,
Inner City,
Archie Shepp,
The Beau Brummels,
Pulsallama,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Almond,
Lebanon Hanover,
Metal Thangz,
Fad Gadget,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lakeside,
Piero Umiliani,
Simply Red,
Skaos,
Adolescents,
Jandek,
The Tremeloes,
Country Teasers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Slits,
Morten Harket,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joey Negro,
Average White Band,
Vladislav Delay,
LL Cool J,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.