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 Vietnam and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Bananas,
James White and The Blacks,
The American Breed,
The Offenders,
The Associates,
The Music Machine,
Pagans,
Visage,
Inner City,
Freddie Wadling,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Davy DMX,
Roy Ayers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
Bauhaus,
X-Ray Spex,
John Lydon,
FM Einheit,
Amazonics,
the Swans,
Jacques Brel,
ABBA,
Andrew Hill,
Outsiders,
Judy Mowatt,
The Five Americans,
Sixth Finger,
The Modern Lovers,
The Slackers,
Fela Kuti,
The Pretty Things,
Sun City Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Ronnie Foster,
Sandy B,
Dead Boys,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Association,
Quadrant,
Agent Orange,
Swans,
Bobby Byrd,
Cluster,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Gun Club,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sister Nancy,
Cheater Slicks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cure,
Eric Copeland,
Ohio Players,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.