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 Marshall Islands 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Quadrant to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
The Seeds,
ABC,
Barrington Levy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sam Rivers,
Wire,
Junior Murvin,
The Fall,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pantytec,
The Flesh Eaters,
Can,
Brick,
Bronski Beat,
Jeff Lynne,
Clear Light,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Q65,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kas Product,
Circle Jerks,
Matthew Halsall,
Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
Skaos,
Television,
Buzzcocks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Delon & Dalcan,
Matthew Bourne,
Pole,
Gil Scott Heron,
Charles Mingus,
Sex Pistols,
Black Flag,
The Mojo Men,
Tres Demented,
Piero Umiliani,
Depeche Mode,
Terry Callier,
Essential Logic,
Hot Snakes,
Fat Boys,
Make Up,
Reagan Youth,
The Invisible,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lakeside,
Gang Green,
Juan Atkins,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Drive Like Jehu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Guru Guru,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Durutti Column,
The Offenders,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.