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 Azerbaijan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Taipei and Copenhagen.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Glenn Branca to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
B.T. Express,
Yazoo,
Kayak,
This Heat,
the Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
David Axelrod,
Minutemen,
The Buckinghams,
U.S. Maple,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Guru Guru,
Duran Duran,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Spandau Ballet,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joe Smooth,
Black Bananas,
Liliput,
Steve Hackett,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Wells,
48th St. Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hasil Adkins,
Brass Construction,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Womack,
Can,
DJ Sneak,
Fad Gadget,
Sparks,
Mad Mike,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Harry Pussy,
Laurel Aitken,
The Monochrome Set,
The Real Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Agent Orange,
Flipper,
The Durutti Column,
The Tremeloes,
The Kinks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Massinfluence,
The Names,
Kurtis Blow,
Prince Buster,
The Stooges,
The Standells,
Rekid,
Sex Pistols,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.