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 Spain and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minor Threat to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Wolf Eyes,
Urselle,
Bronski Beat,
Ken Boothe,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The United States of America,
The American Breed,
New York Dolls,
Pere Ubu,
Marmalade,
Lou Christie,
Circle Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cramps,
Man Eating Sloth,
Piero Umiliani,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suicide,
Simply Red,
Quantec,
The Five Americans,
Wally Richardson,
Black Moon,
Aswad,
Audionom,
a-ha,
The Stooges,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minutemen,
Y Pants,
Youth Brigade,
Mission of Burma,
L. Decosne,
The Doors,
Visage,
Cybotron,
Sight & Sound,
Aural Exciters,
The Fugs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The J.B.'s,
Niagra,
Ossler,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nico,
The Smoke,
China Crisis,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marcia Griffiths,
Buzzcocks,
Grey Daturas,
The Gun Club,
Magazine,
Glenn Branca,
Yaz,
Outsiders,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.