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 Ivory Coast and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Parry Music to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Magazine,
A Certain Ratio,
Faust,
K-Klass,
Angry Samoans,
Nas,
Nick Fraelich,
Michelle Simonal,
Pierre Henry,
Cheater Slicks,
Connie Case,
Fugazi,
Smog,
Judy Mowatt,
Mantronix,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scientists,
Khruangbin,
Arab on Radar,
Eric Copeland,
Scratch Acid,
Neu!,
The Pop Group,
Skarface,
Niagra,
Graham Central Station,
Oblivians,
Hashim,
Ossler,
L. Decosne,
U.S. Maple,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Kinks,
Pere Ubu,
The Modern Lovers,
Absolute Body Control,
Unrelated Segments,
Brass Construction,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Lydon,
The Leaves,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric B and Rakim,
a-ha,
cv313,
Blancmange,
kango's stein massive,
Matthew Halsall,
the Germs,
The Offenders,
Ornette Coleman,
Moss Icon,
Scott Walker,
Warren Ellis,
Freddie Wadling,
These Immortal Souls,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.