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 Gabon and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb 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 Bronski Beat to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Popol Vuh,
Rapeman,
UT,
Soft Machine,
Dennis Brown,
Jeff Lynne,
Tears for Fears,
the Germs,
Brand Nubian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hashim,
Delta 5,
Chris Corsano,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Severed Heads,
Mo-Dettes,
The Smoke,
Faraquet,
Make Up,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hoover,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Whodini,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Average White Band,
Mantronix,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The J.B.'s,
Stereo Dub,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mummies,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moebius,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fat Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
This Heat,
Minny Pops,
The Electric Prunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Desert Stars,
the Soft Cell,
Alison Limerick,
Rakim,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Real Kids,
E-Dancer,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Slits,
Aloha Tigers,
Rosa Yemen,
Fear,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.