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 South Africa and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Liliput to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Glenn Branca,
Los Fastidios,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mantronix,
The Gladiators,
Jacques Brel,
Lalann,
Trumans Water,
The Names,
Audionom,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Spandau Ballet,
Cheater Slicks,
Judy Mowatt,
Albert Ayler,
Supertramp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Cure,
Ralphi Rosario,
Howard Jones,
Anakelly,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Livin' Joy,
the Slits,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Symarip,
Andrew Hill,
Funky Four + One,
Masters at Work,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lyres,
Oblivians,
Ten City,
Sällskapet,
the Swans,
Joe Smooth,
The Sonics,
Interpol,
David McCallum,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Wells,
Gang Green,
Pylon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Henry Cow,
The Remains,
Sixth Finger,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pharoah Sanders,
Con Funk Shun,
Fatback Band,
the Bar-Kays,
John Foxx,
The Detroit Cobras,
Young Marble Giants,
Second Layer,
the Soft Cell,
Marmalade,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.