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 France and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Skaos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aaron Thompson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fall,
Nation of Ulysses,
Zapp,
Eurythmics,
U.S. Maple,
Juan Atkins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Freddie Wadling,
Ice-T,
Rekid,
Faraquet,
Heaven 17,
Sarah Menescal,
The Monks,
Barrington Levy,
Jeff Mills,
The Star Department,
Iggy Pop,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sonics,
Pussy Galore,
The Sound,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hoover,
Brothers Johnson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sex Pistols,
Shoche,
Quando Quango,
Delta 5,
The Offenders,
Royal Trux,
the Normal,
Hardrive,
Talk Talk,
Boz Scaggs,
Spoonie Gee,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Selecter,
John Foxx,
Stiv Bators,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sixth Finger,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
CMW,
The Index,
Soul II Soul,
F. McDonald,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Steve Hackett,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Suicide,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Adolescents,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Funkadelic,
Hot Snakes,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.