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 Rwanda and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Robert Palmer 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 American Breed to the punk 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Almond,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Offenders,
Erasure,
Black Bananas,
Man Eating Sloth,
Procol Harum,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Young Marble Giants,
Chris & Cosey,
Tom Boy,
Model 500,
The Monks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Boredoms,
World's Most,
Lou Christie,
OOIOO,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Anakelly,
Scan 7,
The Cowsills,
Little Man,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fugs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Kas Product,
Sight & Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Gang of Four,
Chris Corsano,
Black Sheep,
Ultra Naté,
Pantaleimon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Livin' Joy,
UT,
Rosa Yemen,
B.T. Express,
Joyce Sims,
Brass Construction,
MDC,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Niagra,
Howard Jones,
Brick,
Vladislav Delay,
Danielle Patucci,
Newcleus,
Laurel Aitken,
Patti Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Rundgren,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swans,
The Fuzztones,
Archie Shepp,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.