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 Paraguay and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grime 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Von Mondo,
Niagra,
The United States of America,
CMW,
Monolake,
Maurizio,
Motorama,
Cheater Slicks,
China Crisis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pierre Henry,
Television,
Glambeats Corp.,
Depeche Mode,
The Grass Roots,
The Moody Blues,
Peter and Kerry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Motions,
Y Pants,
Sandy B,
John Cale,
Metal Thangz,
Dual Sessions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Qualms,
Skarface,
Whodini,
B.T. Express,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ludus,
Technova,
Shoche,
The Flesh Eaters,
Make Up,
DJ Sneak,
T.S.O.L.,
Clear Light,
The Wake,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Toasters,
Reagan Youth,
Matthew Bourne,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fall,
Groovy Waters,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cramps,
Ten City,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minor Threat,
Bang On A Can,
Eurythmics,
Patti Smith,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Christie,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.