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 Moldova and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the funk 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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a mellotron 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 organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Dawn Penn,
Hoover,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Bananas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Funky Four + One,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Whodini,
Arab on Radar,
Gang Starr,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pet Shop Boys,
FM Einheit,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lyres,
Roxy Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Durutti Column,
The Smoke,
Buzzcocks,
Little Man,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Radiopuhelimet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roger Hodgson,
the Swans,
Massinfluence,
Erykah Badu,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jacques Brel,
Moebius,
Peter and Kerry,
Sarah Menescal,
Bluetip,
The Fuzztones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thee Headcoats,
T.S.O.L.,
Niagra,
Pierre Henry,
Ponytail,
Roxette,
Ronnie Foster,
Minutemen,
Ultra Naté,
Blake Baxter,
Mark Hollis,
Ultravox,
Slave,
Qualms,
LL Cool J,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jandek,
Sonic Youth,
Amon Düül II,
David Axelrod,
Popol Vuh,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.