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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Flash Fearless to the electroclash 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
New York Dolls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Depeche Mode,
Vainqueur,
The Associates,
Sexual Harrassment,
Accadde A,
Eric Copeland,
Clear Light,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
This Heat,
Wasted Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
Iggy Pop,
Rakim,
Mandrill,
Mr. Review,
Sam Rivers,
Loose Ends,
Michelle Simonal,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yellowson,
The Birthday Party,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dead C,
Excepter,
Eve St. Jones,
The Raincoats,
Cybotron,
David Bowie,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bush Tetras,
The Techniques,
Slick Rick,
Joy Division,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Searchers,
Leonard Cohen,
Zapp,
New Age Steppers,
June of 44,
Boz Scaggs,
Monks,
Alison Limerick,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cal Tjader,
Jawbox,
The Five Americans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mo-Dettes,
Amon Düül,
Tommy Roe,
Susan Cadogan,
Nick Fraelich,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang of Four,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Golliwogs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rufus Thomas,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.