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 Mozambique and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ 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 T.S.O.L. to the jazz 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Men They Couldn't Hang,
Negative Approach,
ABC,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chris & Cosey,
Gichy Dan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Qualms,
Be Bop Deluxe,
A Certain Ratio,
Clear Light,
Faust,
Aloha Tigers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Organ,
June Days,
Angry Samoans,
FM Einheit,
Gang Green,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ten City,
Soft Cell,
The Remains,
Zapp,
Fatback Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fear,
This Heat,
Banda Bassotti,
The Trojans,
The J.B.'s,
Joy Division,
The Electric Prunes,
Dark Day,
Flipper,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Patti Smith,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ituana,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Popol Vuh,
The Offenders,
Roxette,
The Searchers,
Can,
Maurizio,
KRS-One,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DNA,
The Alarm Clocks,
Severed Heads,
EPMD,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sight & Sound,
Supertramp,
June of 44,
John Foxx,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.