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 Austria and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Joe Finger,
MC5,
Lou Christie,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeff Lynne,
Yellowson,
ABBA,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tim Buckley,
Tres Demented,
Joe Smooth,
Peter & Gordon,
Symarip,
Desert Stars,
The Saints,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Zeros,
Warsaw,
The Skatalites,
Gabor Szabo,
Tommy Roe,
Crime,
The Litter,
Mr. Review,
Danielle Patucci,
Camberwell Now,
The Leaves,
Lyres,
Barbara Tucker,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Germs,
Fatback Band,
the Association,
Lucky Dragons,
Hashim,
Pulsallama,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fugazi,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Hood,
The Walker Brothers,
Lightning Bolt,
Nirvana,
Oneida,
Glambeats Corp.,
Qualms,
Dawn Penn,
Mantronix,
Alice Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
Aural Exciters,
The Trojans,
U.S. Maple,
Von Mondo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soft Cell,
Bill Near,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
June of 44,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.