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 Ivory Coast and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ituana to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Blackbyrds,
The J.B.'s,
Al Stewart,
Fluxion,
Oneida,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Human League,
Procol Harum,
Sex Pistols,
Saccharine Trust,
Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
Banda Bassotti,
Patti Smith,
Urselle,
the Slits,
Japan,
Kerri Chandler,
Ten City,
Mission of Burma,
Das Ding,
Hoover,
Pussy Galore,
Radiohead,
Vladislav Delay,
Los Fastidios,
The Count Five,
Dead Boys,
Dawn Penn,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crash Course in Science,
The Offenders,
Mandrill,
The Dirtbombs,
Moss Icon,
Sällskapet,
Buzzcocks,
PIL,
Royal Trux,
The Real Kids,
Sight & Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Todd Rundgren,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ornette Coleman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Freddie Wadling,
Can,
The Red Krayola,
Cybotron,
Fugazi,
Monolake,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nico,
The Busters,
Suicide,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alphaville,
Minutemen,
The Smiths,
Derrick May,
Harry Pussy,
Sam Rivers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.