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 Botswana and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Agitation Free to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Tom Boy,
Trumans Water,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobby Byrd,
Sister Nancy,
Loose Ends,
Letta Mbulu,
The Misunderstood,
the Swans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aural Exciters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fatback Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Chris Corsano,
The Victims,
Joe Smooth,
ABC,
kango's stein massive,
Los Fastidios,
Duran Duran,
Althea and Donna,
Zapp,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Laurel Aitken,
Joe Finger,
Dawn Penn,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Youth Brigade,
The Doors,
Ultra Naté,
Vladislav Delay,
Nik Kershaw,
The Seeds,
Interpol,
Marvin Gaye,
Shoche,
Fat Boys,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Organ,
Newcleus,
Lou Reed,
Funky Four + One,
Susan Cadogan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roger Hodgson,
Popol Vuh,
Audionom,
Roy Ayers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tres Demented,
Ultravox,
Lungfish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tomorrow,
Crime,
Outsiders,
Thee Headcoats,
Panda Bear,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.