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 Ethiopia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Raincoats to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kurtis Blow,
Suicide,
The New Christs,
Bizarre Inc.,
One Last Wish,
The Fire Engines,
Scion,
The Slits,
Gang Gang Dance,
Make Up,
Jacques Brel,
Sister Nancy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marc Almond,
The Walker Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Jacob Miller,
Minny Pops,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Iggy Pop,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jeff Lynne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hasil Adkins,
June Days,
The Toasters,
Basic Channel,
Mr. Review,
Susan Cadogan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Slick Rick,
New York Dolls,
Pantytec,
Steve Hackett,
Judy Mowatt,
Newcleus,
Rod Modell,
Bootsy Collins,
The Standells,
Talk Talk,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pole,
The Remains,
Cecil Taylor,
Das Ding,
Tom Boy,
Theoretical Girls,
Amon Düül II,
ABBA,
Dave Gahan,
Bill Wells,
Echospace,
Max Romeo,
Scientists,
Bauhaus,
Model 500,
Agent Orange,
Deepchord,
Rotary Connection,
The Invisible,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.