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 Norway and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe 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 Scan 7 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cramps,
Skaos,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Section 25,
Bootsy Collins,
Skarface,
Al Stewart,
Clear Light,
Alice Coltrane,
Ronan,
Dawn Penn,
Marc Almond,
The Vogues,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swell Maps,
The American Breed,
Bobby Sherman,
Japan,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick Morgan,
Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
H. Thieme,
Pantaleimon,
The Real Kids,
Donald Byrd,
Interpol,
Soft Machine,
Howard Jones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Smog,
Matthew Halsall,
Hot Snakes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brothers Johnson,
Barclay James Harvest,
kango's stein massive,
Shuggie Otis,
The Music Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
The Barracudas,
Metal Thangz,
Zero Boys,
DJ Sneak,
Marvin Gaye,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pole,
The Slits,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joe Smooth,
The Smoke,
Lalo Schifrin,
Neu!,
Grey Daturas,
Bluetip,
Man Parrish,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.