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 El Salvador and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Index to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Steve Hackett,
Radio Birdman,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quadrant,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Buckinghams,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
AZ,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Grass Roots,
E-Dancer,
Ultra Naté,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Deadbeat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Subhumans,
Bob Dylan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dead Boys,
The Star Department,
Unrelated Segments,
Barrington Levy,
The Electric Prunes,
Darondo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Standells,
Barbara Tucker,
Tim Buckley,
Underground Resistance,
June of 44,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Tomorrow,
The Young Rascals,
JFA,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Saints,
Lindisfarne,
Matthew Bourne,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harry Pussy,
Blancmange,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bauhaus,
Ossler,
Q65,
Hot Snakes,
Skriet,
The J.B.'s,
B.T. Express,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gang Green,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cure,
X-102,
Lee Hazlewood,
Siglo XX,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.