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 Nigeria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Agent Orange to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Scott Walker,
Steve Hackett,
Michelle Simonal,
The Wake,
Panda Bear,
Delta 5,
Marshall Jefferson,
Donny Hathaway,
Sex Pistols,
Surgeon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mo-Dettes,
MC5,
Morten Harket,
June of 44,
Vladislav Delay,
Wire,
X-Ray Spex,
Interpol,
Rod Modell,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter and Kerry,
Faust,
Desert Stars,
Glenn Branca,
Neil Young,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Byron Stingily,
Soft Machine,
Avey Tare,
Susan Cadogan,
Quando Quango,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cameo,
Moby Grape,
Aural Exciters,
Chris & Cosey,
Spoonie Gee,
Camberwell Now,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ken Boothe,
Moss Icon,
Cal Tjader,
Saccharine Trust,
The Moleskins,
Pantaleimon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Agitation Free,
The Neon Judgement,
The Dirtbombs,
Gong,
F. McDonald,
Mr. Review,
Main Source,
Eve St. Jones,
Lalann,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.