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 Malawi and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Dave Gahan,
Dawn Penn,
Bang On A Can,
Black Pus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Amon Düül,
Mr. Review,
the Soft Cell,
Robert Görl,
Wally Richardson,
The Barracudas,
Johnny Clarke,
This Heat,
Scrapy,
La Düsseldorf,
The Raincoats,
The Buckinghams,
Graham Central Station,
Fear,
The Saints,
Ultravox,
The Young Rascals,
Eddi Front,
World's Most,
The Happenings,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Japan,
X-101,
OOIOO,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aswad,
Byron Stingily,
Bush Tetras,
Eden Ahbez,
Talk Talk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wire,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aural Exciters,
The Wake,
T.S.O.L.,
Sugar Minott,
Joey Negro,
Das Ding,
Whodini,
Faust,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roxy Music,
Alphaville,
Swans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Suicide,
The Toasters,
The Walker Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
Franke,
The American Breed,
Negative Approach,
R.M.O.,
China Crisis,
Nirvana,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.