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 China and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sex Pistols to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Boredoms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultra Naté,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Mojo Men,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Star Department,
The Saints,
Outsiders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Camouflage,
Au Pairs,
Brothers Johnson,
Ituana,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pantytec,
Wire,
Cal Tjader,
The Cowsills,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cameo,
The Slits,
Rod Modell,
The Gladiators,
Sugar Minott,
The Red Krayola,
Ralphi Rosario,
Buzzcocks,
The Five Americans,
New Age Steppers,
Traffic Nightmare,
David Bowie,
Saccharine Trust,
Urselle,
10cc,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pylon,
Al Stewart,
Television,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tears for Fears,
Symarip,
Joy Division,
JFA,
Nas,
Moby Grape,
U.S. Maple,
Eli Mardock,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Kinks,
Unwound,
Mr. Review,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Negative Approach,
Max Romeo,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.