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 Uruguay and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Mandrill to the grunge 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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Althea and Donna,
Wolf Eyes,
48th St. Collective,
Radio Birdman,
Janne Schatter,
Joe Finger,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fatback Band,
Jawbox,
Stetsasonic,
Talk Talk,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fire Engines,
Sun Ra,
Sun City Girls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Freddie Wadling,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Camouflage,
Eric Copeland,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Residents,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kool Moe Dee,
Warren Ellis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bill Near,
Cal Tjader,
Visage,
The Associates,
Terry Callier,
Dave Gahan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rotary Connection,
Gong,
Grey Daturas,
Zapp,
K-Klass,
The Seeds,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scrapy,
Aural Exciters,
The Gladiators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Excepter,
John Foxx,
Roxette,
Man Parrish,
John Cale,
The Birthday Party,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Barracudas,
Bill Wells,
Slick Rick,
Throbbing Gristle,
Subhumans,
Boredoms,
L. Decosne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.