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 Pakistan and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Don Cherry to the grunge 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Warren Ellis,
The Neon Judgement,
Dark Day,
Crooked Eye,
The American Breed,
Blancmange,
Saccharine Trust,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Shoche,
Ronan,
Blossom Toes,
Dual Sessions,
Ultra Naté,
Oblivians,
The New Christs,
The Move,
Harpers Bizarre,
Q and Not U,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cowsills,
Darondo,
Lindisfarne,
Lalann,
Hasil Adkins,
Ponytail,
Grauzone,
Y Pants,
The Index,
Index,
Kaleidoscope,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
Livin' Joy,
Judy Mowatt,
Groovy Waters,
Avey Tare,
Derrick Morgan,
The Offenders,
Bush Tetras,
David McCallum,
Slave,
The Vogues,
Ultravox,
LL Cool J,
Black Bananas,
Jandek,
The Toasters,
Banda Bassotti,
Bluetip,
Gregory Isaacs,
AZ,
Junior Murvin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-101,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Accadde A,
Masters at Work,
Soul II Soul,
Scan 7,
Youth Brigade,
Cheater Slicks,
Max Romeo,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.