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 Mongolia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Donald Fagen 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 Tres Demented to the punk 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Freddie Wadling,
Easy Going,
The Happenings,
Ultravox,
New Age Steppers,
the Human League,
Visage,
PIL,
Iggy Pop,
Fat Boys,
The Kinks,
Davy DMX,
MDC,
Amazonics,
Eden Ahbez,
Quando Quango,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Pus,
Sugar Minott,
Gang Starr,
Lungfish,
New York Dolls,
Heaven 17,
The Gap Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Zapp,
Interpol,
Suicide,
Skaos,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Leonard Cohen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fad Gadget,
Pantytec,
The Mojo Men,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Susan Cadogan,
The Zeros,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dorothy Ashby,
David Axelrod,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dark Day,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lucky Dragons,
Aaron Thompson,
The Smoke,
Minutemen,
Subhumans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Gun Club,
Index,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Archie Shepp,
Marc Almond,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Guru Guru,
Graham Central Station,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.