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 Algeria and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Lydon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Hardrive,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
Lyres,
Suicide,
The Moleskins,
Eric Dolphy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
X-101,
Excepter,
H. Thieme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mad Mike,
Arcadia,
The Dirtbombs,
Eurythmics,
Yaz,
Marmalade,
Oneida,
The Wake,
Camberwell Now,
Section 25,
Kenny Larkin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Man Parrish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Althea and Donna,
the Sonics,
The Gories,
Desert Stars,
Tears for Fears,
Bad Manners,
Popol Vuh,
Swans,
Half Japanese,
Niagra,
Whodini,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultravox,
Moby Grape,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
Lakeside,
Pulsallama,
Susan Cadogan,
The Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Boz Scaggs,
The Five Americans,
Neu!,
Severed Heads,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.