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 Thailand and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Shuggie Otis to the disco 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Bluetip,
the Sonics,
Saccharine Trust,
Q and Not U,
Faust,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Velvet Underground,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
Trumans Water,
Ronan,
Gichy Dan,
Dawn Penn,
Average White Band,
Scott Walker,
Los Fastidios,
Todd Rundgren,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dual Sessions,
Theoretical Girls,
X-102,
Lou Christie,
Bill Wells,
DJ Sneak,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Monks,
Roy Ayers,
Negative Approach,
Toni Rubio,
the Slits,
Laurel Aitken,
The Tremeloes,
Television Personalities,
The Fuzztones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Can,
The Misunderstood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quantec,
Mandrill,
Silicon Teens,
The Young Rascals,
the Bar-Kays,
Sarah Menescal,
Goldenarms,
Unrelated Segments,
Pierre Henry,
Graham Central Station,
Guru Guru,
Popol Vuh,
48th St. Collective,
Eddi Front,
The Invisible,
The Detroit Cobras,
Quadrant,
The Litter,
Electric Prunes,
CMW,
James White and The Blacks,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.