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 Zimbabwe and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the techno 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Siglo XX,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amon Düül,
The Sound,
Make Up,
Michelle Simonal,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ohio Players,
Bang On A Can,
The Remains,
The Cramps,
a-ha,
Procol Harum,
Johnny Clarke,
the Germs,
Vainqueur,
Dark Day,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lou Reed,
The Fugs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Slits,
The Five Americans,
Lightning Bolt,
B.T. Express,
Audionom,
The Monochrome Set,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soulsonic Force,
Rotary Connection,
Terrestrial Tones,
Janne Schatter,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Magazine,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skaos,
Jawbox,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ossler,
Rod Modell,
Jacques Brel,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Howard Jones,
Todd Terry,
Gang Starr,
The Index,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camouflage,
Minor Threat,
PIL,
Maleditus Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.