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 Togo and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Whodini to the electroclash 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
the Germs,
Fear,
Blake Baxter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Warren Ellis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dead Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Buckinghams,
Country Teasers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Invisible,
The Saints,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wire,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Moon,
The Count Five,
Harry Pussy,
Pagans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Sherman,
Theoretical Girls,
Supertramp,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Smiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
Warsaw,
Ornette Coleman,
Rekid,
The Mojo Men,
The Mummies,
Grey Daturas,
Mad Mike,
the Slits,
Crispian St. Peters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
One Last Wish,
The Move,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marine Girls,
Heaven 17,
Q and Not U,
Kurtis Blow,
MDC,
The Leaves,
Minny Pops,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vladislav Delay,
Lower 48,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare,
Crooked Eye,
Ponytail,
The Motions,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.