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 Paraguay and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Lindisfarne,
Dawn Penn,
Bad Manners,
Magma,
Lungfish,
Mandrill,
Spoonie Gee,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amazonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Leonard Cohen,
Minny Pops,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Trojans,
Tears for Fears,
Jawbox,
The Doors,
The Shadows of Knight,
Organ,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
PIL,
Accadde A,
Donald Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Sparks,
Sixth Finger,
Drexciya,
Rites of Spring,
Crooked Eye,
Mars,
A Certain Ratio,
the Slits,
La Düsseldorf,
Neu!,
The Remains,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Echospace,
Wings,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Little Man,
DNA,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alice Coltrane,
Mark Hollis,
T.S.O.L.,
K-Klass,
the Association,
Joy Division,
Negative Approach,
Bang On A Can,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Near,
Mission of Burma,
Radiopuhelimet,
KRS-One,
The Happenings,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.