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 Bangladesh and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
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 sitar 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 Quadrant to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Howard Jones,
Piero Umiliani,
Duran Duran,
Average White Band,
New Age Steppers,
The Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Model 500,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Womack,
Joe Finger,
Dawn Penn,
Harry Pussy,
X-102,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Masters at Work,
Gabor Szabo,
Jeff Mills,
Nick Fraelich,
Moss Icon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric Copeland,
Electric Prunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amazonics,
The Cure,
Andrew Hill,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DNA,
The Fuzztones,
Intrusion,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Pop Group,
Josef K,
JFA,
The American Breed,
Goldenarms,
The Young Rascals,
Little Man,
Alphaville,
Ten City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jerry's Kids,
Brick,
Thee Headcoats,
Amon Düül II,
ABBA,
Porter Ricks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharoah Sanders,
Excepter,
the Association,
Jacques Brel,
Kenny Larkin,
Trumans Water,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rapeman,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.