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 Tanzania and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Mumbai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 Wings to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Trojans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Charles Mingus,
The Leaves,
John Lydon,
The Tremeloes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sam Rivers,
Buzzcocks,
Joy Division,
Ituana,
The Durutti Column,
The Happenings,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Sherman,
The Associates,
D'Angelo,
Connie Case,
Kenny Larkin,
Marine Girls,
Patti Smith,
Bill Near,
Bobby Womack,
Magazine,
Joe Finger,
The American Breed,
Cymande,
The Blues Magoos,
Intrusion,
The Litter,
Circle Jerks,
Television,
Soft Cell,
Guru Guru,
Ponytail,
Procol Harum,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Judy Mowatt,
The Selecter,
Liliput,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fuzztones,
Swans,
Organ,
Hashim,
Jawbox,
Marcia Griffiths,
Michelle Simonal,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Starr,
Negative Approach,
Interpol,
UT,
Peter and Kerry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fat Boys,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.