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 East Timor and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pantytec to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds 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?
New Order,
The Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Quando Quango,
Visage,
Wings,
Funky Four + One,
David McCallum,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Raincoats,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantaleimon,
Nas,
Jacques Brel,
Groovy Waters,
Pussy Galore,
Aswad,
Mission of Burma,
Don Cherry,
Black Sheep,
Public Enemy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Buzzcocks,
Jandek,
Amazonics,
The Buckinghams,
The Black Dice,
The Birthday Party,
Organ,
Underground Resistance,
Subhumans,
Pole,
Livin' Joy,
Reagan Youth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cymande,
Niagra,
Man Parrish,
These Immortal Souls,
Flash Fearless,
Zero Boys,
Eurythmics,
Jeff Mills,
Ultravox,
The Slackers,
The Walker Brothers,
The Saints,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cowsills,
The Residents,
Darondo,
the Association,
Peter and Kerry,
Pierre Henry,
The Human League,
Gang of Four,
The Electric Prunes,
Urselle,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.