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 Papua New Guinea and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lightning Bolt to the crunk 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grauzone,
Faust,
Althea and Donna,
Los Fastidios,
Khruangbin,
The Cure,
Skaos,
Dawn Penn,
Fugazi,
Lyres,
Q and Not U,
Hasil Adkins,
Reuben Wilson,
The New Christs,
Aaron Thompson,
Underground Resistance,
Nation of Ulysses,
New York Dolls,
L. Decosne,
Peter and Kerry,
Little Man,
China Crisis,
The Beau Brummels,
Nik Kershaw,
Charles Mingus,
Newcleus,
Arcadia,
Mad Mike,
Y Pants,
Index,
the Slits,
Main Source,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Swans,
Das Ding,
The Toasters,
The Victims,
E-Dancer,
Swans,
Dual Sessions,
The Tremeloes,
Joe Finger,
Television,
The Move,
Gong,
The Motions,
Ralphi Rosario,
Excepter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Alison Limerick,
Neil Young,
The Offenders,
Tears for Fears,
Radiopuhelimet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tubeway Army,
John Cale,
Yaz,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.