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 Suriname and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Severed Heads,
The Names,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marc Almond,
Pussy Galore,
Mantronix,
Fatback Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Yellowson,
Marcia Griffiths,
World's Most,
The Grass Roots,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Neil Young,
Faraquet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Freddie Wadling,
The Litter,
Organ,
The Trojans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Man Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
Procol Harum,
The Mighty Diamonds,
ABBA,
Wally Richardson,
The Dead C,
David Axelrod,
Maurizio,
F. McDonald,
Swans,
Josef K,
The Zeros,
The Gap Band,
New York Dolls,
Ken Boothe,
Archie Shepp,
H. Thieme,
Skriet,
Toni Rubio,
Bobby Womack,
The Monochrome Set,
KRS-One,
Mandrill,
LL Cool J,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eve St. Jones,
Jawbox,
Magazine,
Joy Division,
DJ Style,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dual Sessions,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.