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 Ethiopia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cramps to the rock 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Angry Samoans,
Boredoms,
James White and The Blacks,
Faraquet,
Letta Mbulu,
Warren Ellis,
Carl Craig,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Das Ding,
Yazoo,
Excepter,
Marc Almond,
JFA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sugar Minott,
Metal Thangz,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kaleidoscope,
World's Most,
The Zeros,
Black Flag,
EPMD,
The Slits,
The Victims,
Mr. Review,
Crispian St. Peters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fear,
Kenny Larkin,
Peter and Kerry,
Bush Tetras,
ABBA,
Sparks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
H. Thieme,
Wasted Youth,
The Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cowsills,
Ultimate Spinach,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Reed,
the Germs,
June Days,
The Gladiators,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pole,
Derrick May,
Sun City Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arab on Radar,
The Pretty Things,
Parry Music,
Sexual Harrassment,
R.M.O.,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.