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 Lebanon and from Spokane.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Pole to the funk 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
the Soft Cell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jerry's Kids,
Duran Duran,
The Trojans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Agent Orange,
Colin Newman,
Toni Rubio,
Pierre Henry,
David Bowie,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Morten Harket,
Depeche Mode,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Pretty Things,
David Axelrod,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Porter Ricks,
Hoover,
Neu!,
The Mummies,
June of 44,
Mark Hollis,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul II Soul,
The Litter,
Lucky Dragons,
Gong,
Sällskapet,
The United States of America,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New Age Steppers,
Ohio Players,
Laurel Aitken,
Pere Ubu,
Warsaw,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Arthur Verocai,
Sugar Minott,
Country Teasers,
Public Enemy,
Accadde A,
a-ha,
Can,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crooked Eye,
PIL,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Monochrome Set,
Quantec,
Lakeside,
Peter & Gordon,
Underground Resistance,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chrome,
Patti Smith,
L. Decosne,
The Cramps,
Max Romeo,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.