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 Turkmenistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Gastr Del Sol to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Bauhaus,
Harry Pussy,
Reuben Wilson,
Byron Stingily,
Pantytec,
The Names,
The Skatalites,
Ice-T,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scan 7,
The New Christs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Reagan Youth,
Nas,
the Soft Cell,
The Wake,
The Remains,
Lower 48,
Barbara Tucker,
Stiv Bators,
Hasil Adkins,
Jandek,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alphaville,
Dorothy Ashby,
Visage,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Drive Like Jehu,
Isaac Hayes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Au Pairs,
Swans,
The Count Five,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Absolute Body Control,
Half Japanese,
The Cure,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joey Negro,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
David Axelrod,
Jacob Miller,
Graham Central Station,
The Star Department,
The Gories,
Mission of Burma,
Liliput,
Shuggie Otis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Maurizio,
Rapeman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blake Baxter,
X-101,
Lyres,
Dual Sessions,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.