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 Tunisia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Motorama to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Pylon,
Los Fastidios,
Graham Central Station,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nils Olav,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Near,
Harpers Bizarre,
Angry Samoans,
The Music Machine,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cramps,
Eli Mardock,
The Move,
Buzzcocks,
Gerry Rafferty,
X-Ray Spex,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Fuzztones,
UT,
Neu!,
Trumans Water,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gong,
Black Flag,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nas,
Josef K,
The Count Five,
Dave Gahan,
Al Stewart,
OOIOO,
Pole,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang On A Can,
Swell Maps,
Supertramp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arthur Verocai,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bob Dylan,
Spandau Ballet,
Ronan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minny Pops,
Section 25,
Dennis Brown,
Loose Ends,
The Gories,
Robert Hood,
Spoonie Gee,
The Doors,
Faust,
Surgeon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brick,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.