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 Antigua and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dead Boys to the dance 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
These Immortal Souls,
The Angels of Light,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Freddie Wadling,
This Heat,
Marvin Gaye,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sound Behaviour,
Agitation Free,
Dark Day,
Scientists,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nick Fraelich,
Derrick Morgan,
Pantaleimon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
R.M.O.,
Don Cherry,
Mars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Lynne,
Rod Modell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gap Band,
Suicide,
Q65,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minnie Riperton,
Television Personalities,
Barbara Tucker,
Bluetip,
The Birthday Party,
Joey Negro,
Slick Rick,
Ultimate Spinach,
Royal Trux,
Jandek,
Urselle,
The Skatalites,
Malaria!,
Gang Green,
Pantytec,
Oneida,
Scott Walker,
Hot Snakes,
Flamin' Groovies,
LL Cool J,
The Stooges,
June Days,
F. McDonald,
Cymande,
Hoover,
Rekid,
Patti Smith,
Anthony Braxton,
Tim Buckley,
Popol Vuh,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.