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 Guinea-Bissau and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Slick Rick to the electroclash 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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Dennis Brown,
Index,
The Last Poets,
Marine Girls,
Ultra Naté,
The Associates,
the Slits,
Excepter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Japan,
Audionom,
Danielle Patucci,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Doobie Brothers,
ABBA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lower 48,
Nik Kershaw,
Davy DMX,
The Invisible,
Stereo Dub,
Anakelly,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
PIL,
Jacques Brel,
Television Personalities,
Barry Ungar,
The Music Machine,
The Raincoats,
The Gun Club,
the Sonics,
Altered Images,
Alphaville,
The Mojo Men,
The Index,
Brand Nubian,
Crooked Eye,
Morten Harket,
Newcleus,
The Golliwogs,
Zero Boys,
F. McDonald,
Bob Dylan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Parry Music,
Tim Buckley,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Pus,
KRS-One,
The Grass Roots,
The Count Five,
Blancmange,
Anthony Braxton,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radio Birdman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tomorrow,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fall,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.