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 Montenegro and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Erasure to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Circle Jerks,
Sparks,
Khruangbin,
Freddie Wadling,
Graham Central Station,
Ludus,
The Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Godley & Creme,
The Fire Engines,
Patti Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pantytec,
Royal Trux,
Au Pairs,
Slave,
The Litter,
Rosa Yemen,
Jandek,
The Smiths,
Marc Almond,
The Skatalites,
Boredoms,
The Remains,
Alphaville,
Pussy Galore,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jawbox,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jacques Brel,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fela Kuti,
Slick Rick,
Television Personalities,
Sight & Sound,
Junior Murvin,
Infiniti,
Darondo,
Young Marble Giants,
Blake Baxter,
Easy Going,
Vladislav Delay,
The Shadows of Knight,
DJ Sneak,
Kurtis Blow,
The Real Kids,
Babytalk,
Rapeman,
Y Pants,
CMW,
Rod Modell,
Eric Copeland,
Electric Prunes,
Bauhaus,
Outsiders,
Accadde A,
Mission of Burma,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.