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 Korea South and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 Stiv Bators to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Vladislav Delay,
Delon & Dalcan,
Charles Mingus,
Absolute Body Control,
Swans,
Bill Wells,
Sam Rivers,
Whodini,
Tears for Fears,
The Last Poets,
Marmalade,
Simply Red,
Moss Icon,
The Modern Lovers,
Glenn Branca,
KRS-One,
Metal Thangz,
Byron Stingily,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Byrd,
The Saints,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang of Four,
Roger Hodgson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dave Gahan,
Amon Düül,
T. Rex,
The Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
Bob Dylan,
The Pop Group,
Rod Modell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Saccharine Trust,
The Names,
Junior Murvin,
Mr. Review,
The Music Machine,
Kenny Larkin,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Residents,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobbi Humphrey,
R.M.O.,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiopuhelimet,
Minutemen,
Cybotron,
Sun City Girls,
Moby Grape,
Nas,
Lou Reed,
The Cure,
Scott Walker,
Talk Talk,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.