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 Guatemala and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ralphi Rosario to the rap 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Adolescents,
The Cure,
The Human League,
Aloha Tigers,
The Modern Lovers,
Anthony Braxton,
Blancmange,
The Searchers,
The Dead C,
Wasted Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Don Cherry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Byron Stingily,
B.T. Express,
Fat Boys,
New Age Steppers,
In Retrospect,
the Slits,
Suburban Knight,
Infiniti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Ronan,
Matthew Halsall,
E-Dancer,
Camouflage,
the Association,
PIL,
John Holt,
The Doors,
The Five Americans,
X-101,
Pere Ubu,
The Barracudas,
Archie Shepp,
The Residents,
Severed Heads,
Andrew Hill,
Prince Buster,
Sällskapet,
The Birthday Party,
The Gories,
Sonic Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crash Course in Science,
Moss Icon,
The Leaves,
Kerrie Biddell,
Interpol,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ornette Coleman,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Cluster,
Qualms,
Marine Girls,
Joyce Sims,
Tommy Roe,
Clear Light,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.