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 Gabon and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Juan Atkins to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Idris Muhammad,
Index,
Minor Threat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Youth Brigade,
Rod Modell,
Ohio Players,
Chris Corsano,
Bluetip,
Black Moon,
The Offenders,
The Young Rascals,
MC5,
Zapp,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Tremeloes,
Sam Rivers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mars,
The Index,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pharoah Sanders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moss Icon,
The Techniques,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fugs,
Livin' Joy,
Danielle Patucci,
John Cale,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Stiv Bators,
the Bar-Kays,
Quantec,
Massinfluence,
Lucky Dragons,
Trumans Water,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amazonics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Camberwell Now,
Bob Dylan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sarah Menescal,
The Knickerbockers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Minutemen,
Sex Pistols,
Camouflage,
Barrington Levy,
Scott Walker,
Crispy Ambulance,
James Chance & The Contortions,
MDC,
Absolute Body Control,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.