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 Peru and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Wally Richardson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roxy Music,
Ituana,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cecil Taylor,
Pylon,
MC5,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hasil Adkins,
The Count Five,
Kerri Chandler,
L. Decosne,
Sixth Finger,
Aaron Thompson,
Amazonics,
the Germs,
Model 500,
Das Ding,
Aural Exciters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Sherman,
Brass Construction,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gregory Isaacs,
U.S. Maple,
John Cale,
Faraquet,
Trumans Water,
The Music Machine,
The Fuzztones,
The Blackbyrds,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Görl,
Sandy B,
Tubeway Army,
Outsiders,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
H. Thieme,
Von Mondo,
Gang Starr,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Moody Blues,
Royal Trux,
The Zeros,
The Standells,
Minny Pops,
The Mojo Men,
Los Fastidios,
Gichy Dan,
Khruangbin,
Grauzone,
Funky Four + One,
X-Ray Spex,
The Alarm Clocks,
Circle Jerks,
The Move,
JFA,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.