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 Seychelles and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Aswad to the grime 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Adolescents,
Depeche Mode,
Stockholm Monsters,
Chris Corsano,
Barry Ungar,
Al Stewart,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Deakin,
Half Japanese,
Chrome,
Silicon Teens,
Boredoms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun City Girls,
Nirvana,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Pretty Things,
Monks,
the Swans,
Aaron Thompson,
Neil Young,
Donny Hathaway,
Ponytail,
Parry Music,
Popol Vuh,
Metal Thangz,
KRS-One,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sugar Minott,
Nick Fraelich,
Nico,
Khruangbin,
Subhumans,
Dennis Brown,
U.S. Maple,
The Detroit Cobras,
Qualms,
Soft Cell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dave Gahan,
Rufus Thomas,
Severed Heads,
Glenn Branca,
UT,
Niagra,
Susan Cadogan,
Roxette,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dark Day,
Buzzcocks,
The Real Kids,
Lou Christie,
The Slits,
Mark Hollis,
Agitation Free,
The Fuzztones,
L. Decosne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.