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 Peru and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 oboe 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 The Fuzztones to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
The American Breed,
Bang On A Can,
kango's stein massive,
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kayak,
DJ Sneak,
the Slits,
Rufus Thomas,
Pussy Galore,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wire,
R.M.O.,
Amazonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stetsasonic,
Kas Product,
The Monks,
John Cale,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
Mission of Burma,
Skarface,
The Durutti Column,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Move,
Sparks,
Television,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minny Pops,
Scientists,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Last Poets,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed,
a-ha,
Q65,
The Red Krayola,
Grey Daturas,
The Black Dice,
Blake Baxter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-102,
Barbara Tucker,
Anthony Braxton,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Kinks,
Can,
FM Einheit,
Al Stewart,
Unwound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Young Rascals,
Lalann,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
Eurythmics,
The Buckinghams,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.