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 Latvia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Beau Brummels to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Siglo XX,
Lalann,
Mark Hollis,
The Angels of Light,
Pantytec,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Alice Coltrane,
Marc Almond,
Suicide,
ABBA,
OOIOO,
Sun Ra,
Swans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Infiniti,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiopuhelimet,
Glenn Branca,
Goldenarms,
The Fugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
Anthony Braxton,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hoover,
Jacques Brel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultravox,
Sex Pistols,
Pole,
Bronski Beat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Aural Exciters,
Absolute Body Control,
Interpol,
U.S. Maple,
New Order,
Franke,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Deadbeat,
The Birthday Party,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lakeside,
Roxette,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scott Walker,
The Invisible,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Guru Guru,
Rapeman,
Los Fastidios,
Gil Scott Heron,
New York Dolls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers,
Joe Finger,
Main Source,
Pierre Henry,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.