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 Burundi and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ 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 Nils Olav to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Robert Hood,
Second Layer,
Amazonics,
Arab on Radar,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Dead C,
Michelle Simonal,
the Slits,
Terry Callier,
Interpol,
Severed Heads,
Popol Vuh,
Wolf Eyes,
Marmalade,
Sex Pistols,
H. Thieme,
X-101,
Black Pus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Minny Pops,
Minor Threat,
the Soft Cell,
Pere Ubu,
Sarah Menescal,
Metal Thangz,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Harmonia,
Chris & Cosey,
Wire,
Stiv Bators,
The Gladiators,
Peter and Kerry,
Gong,
Neil Young,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Trumans Water,
Brothers Johnson,
Alison Limerick,
Country Teasers,
Lakeside,
Zero Boys,
The Mummies,
Monks,
Liliput,
OOIOO,
Frankie Knuckles,
Groovy Waters,
Chrome,
Roger Hodgson,
U.S. Maple,
Sandy B,
The Move,
X-Ray Spex,
Eurythmics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Absolute Body Control,
Josef K,
Eli Mardock,
David Bowie,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.