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 Tuvalu and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
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 organ 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 Swans to the crunk 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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Wyatt,
Metal Thangz,
Tropical Tobacco,
Skarface,
Reuben Wilson,
Panda Bear,
Mo-Dettes,
Neil Young,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dual Sessions,
Howard Jones,
La Düsseldorf,
Joe Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
Severed Heads,
The Offenders,
Cal Tjader,
The Trojans,
Barbara Tucker,
The J.B.'s,
Nico,
Joy Division,
The Doors,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Saints,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cymande,
Janne Schatter,
China Crisis,
Echospace,
Mission of Burma,
Gang Starr,
Porter Ricks,
Wally Richardson,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultravox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ken Boothe,
Ultimate Spinach,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Monochrome Set,
Man Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
The Alarm Clocks,
In Retrospect,
Schoolly D,
Visage,
Sound Behaviour,
Los Fastidios,
Subhumans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quantec,
Slick Rick,
Byron Stingily,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
David Axelrod,
The Real Kids,
Dennis Brown,
The Raincoats,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.