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 Croatia and from Houston.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe 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 John Lydon to the rap 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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Underground Resistance,
June of 44,
the Sonics,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soul II Soul,
Brick,
Country Teasers,
Zapp,
Alice Coltrane,
Archie Shepp,
Tubeway Army,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxette,
The Dead C,
Funkadelic,
Smog,
Althea and Donna,
X-102,
Deepchord,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Television,
Deadbeat,
Lee Hazlewood,
Interpol,
Pussy Galore,
Audionom,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bluetip,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Electric Prunes,
Black Flag,
The New Christs,
The Blues Magoos,
Minny Pops,
Harmonia,
Clear Light,
Terry Callier,
The Standells,
Gang Green,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultimate Spinach,
Newcleus,
The Offenders,
Marvin Gaye,
Mars,
Bronski Beat,
Minor Threat,
Cybotron,
Excepter,
Henry Cow,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Parry Music,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lower 48,
Absolute Body Control,
The Trojans,
The Toasters,
Blossom Toes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.