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 Thailand and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Maleditus Sound to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 marimba and a clarinet 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 theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pussy Galore,
The Blues Magoos,
Chris & Cosey,
The Happenings,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Lydon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cluster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nation of Ulysses,
Au Pairs,
Make Up,
Roy Ayers,
Thompson Twins,
The Buckinghams,
Whodini,
John Holt,
Eric Dolphy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brothers Johnson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scratch Acid,
the Human League,
The Zeros,
cv313,
DJ Style,
Bobby Womack,
The Pop Group,
Crooked Eye,
U.S. Maple,
Dorothy Ashby,
Grandmaster Flash,
Unrelated Segments,
Subhumans,
Laurel Aitken,
Susan Cadogan,
Khruangbin,
Godley & Creme,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fire Engines,
Ituana,
Electric Prunes,
Darondo,
The Sound,
Das Ding,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Loose Ends,
The Young Rascals,
Black Flag,
Alphaville,
the Association,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Smiths,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Mojo Men,
Juan Atkins,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.