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 Chad and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Jimmy McGriff to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Cramps,
Interpol,
Urselle,
The Gories,
Robert Hood,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Lydon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Michelle Simonal,
The Smiths,
Rosa Yemen,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
The Wake,
Liliput,
Marcia Griffiths,
Popol Vuh,
CMW,
Blossom Toes,
This Heat,
The Alarm Clocks,
Clear Light,
Saccharine Trust,
Procol Harum,
The Techniques,
Desert Stars,
Flipper,
Glambeats Corp.,
Chris Corsano,
Althea and Donna,
Newcleus,
Little Man,
Rod Modell,
Gong,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ronan,
AZ,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pagans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nirvana,
John Foxx,
David McCallum,
June of 44,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pantaleimon,
Jacques Brel,
The Sonics,
FM Einheit,
Metal Thangz,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Real Kids,
Amazonics,
Schoolly D,
Stiv Bators,
Wally Richardson,
Silicon Teens,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.