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 Liechtenstein and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Rites of Spring,
The Moleskins,
Lou Reed,
Blossom Toes,
Rotary Connection,
Blake Baxter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pole,
Jerry's Kids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Machine,
Nirvana,
The Fugs,
Gang of Four,
Dual Sessions,
Y Pants,
Brick,
DJ Style,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Normal,
Marcia Griffiths,
Terry Callier,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
This Heat,
The Stooges,
Nik Kershaw,
MDC,
Faust,
Fad Gadget,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun Ra,
Godley & Creme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Connie Case,
Quadrant,
the Slits,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Panda Bear,
Massinfluence,
Television,
Charles Mingus,
Masters at Work,
The Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
The Slackers,
David Bowie,
Yaz,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sonic Youth,
The Dirtbombs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ossler,
Lindisfarne,
John Holt,
Ponytail,
John Foxx,
Bill Near,
Henry Cow,
Ronan,
Nico,
Eurythmics,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.