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 Bolivia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Suicide to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Nils Olav,
Panda Bear,
Derrick May,
Gang Starr,
Lindisfarne,
The Human League,
The Last Poets,
Peter and Kerry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Simply Red,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tres Demented,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Das Ding,
Sister Nancy,
June of 44,
Au Pairs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
PIL,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angry Samoans,
Fat Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Terry,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Womack,
Depeche Mode,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ituana,
Soul II Soul,
Shuggie Otis,
The Pretty Things,
Kenny Larkin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy Collins,
Jeff Mills,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pantaleimon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marvin Gaye,
MC5,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Count Five,
One Last Wish,
Jeff Lynne,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Normal,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare,
John Foxx,
Amon Düül II,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.