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 East Timor and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar 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 Crispy Ambulance to the funk 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Marine Girls,
Maurizio,
The Cure,
Skaos,
The Trojans,
Roxette,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crooked Eye,
Scion,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Outsiders,
Spandau Ballet,
Sex Pistols,
Blossom Toes,
The Blackbyrds,
China Crisis,
Stetsasonic,
Soulsonic Force,
Main Source,
Sight & Sound,
Faraquet,
Franke,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Kinks,
The Gap Band,
Tears for Fears,
The Residents,
The Skatalites,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Desert Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Janne Schatter,
The Victims,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Cowsills,
the Association,
Bill Wells,
The Doors,
Toni Rubio,
Amon Düül,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ludus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stereo Dub,
Maleditus Sound,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed,
Guru Guru,
Agitation Free,
Sam Rivers,
The Names,
Cymande,
The Red Krayola,
Lyres,
Stiv Bators,
Au Pairs,
Moebius,
Gil Scott Heron,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Standells,
Ossler,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.