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 Micronesia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin 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 Tommy Roe to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Lungfish,
Godley & Creme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marvin Gaye,
Technova,
Letta Mbulu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Coltrane,
Monks,
Joyce Sims,
Visage,
In Retrospect,
Maleditus Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Franke,
Faraquet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crash Course in Science,
Kenny Larkin,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Neon Judgement,
Jerry's Kids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roxy Music,
Gichy Dan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fugs,
Fluxion,
The Flesh Eaters,
Index,
The Five Americans,
Radio Birdman,
Stereo Dub,
Scott Walker,
Todd Terry,
Tres Demented,
Desert Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Agent Orange,
Urselle,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Smog,
The Saints,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Ralphi Rosario,
Negative Approach,
The Martian,
Tomorrow,
Cheater Slicks,
Ken Boothe,
Junior Murvin,
Angry Samoans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wire,
Aswad,
Brick,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.