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 Nicaragua and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 Portland and Winnipeg.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Neil Young to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Adolescents,
Average White Band,
The Smoke,
Panda Bear,
the Normal,
Scrapy,
Thee Headcoats,
The Index,
The Searchers,
Sandy B,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DJ Style,
Wings,
Dead Boys,
Johnny Clarke,
James White and The Blacks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marc Almond,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sexual Harrassment,
Japan,
Circle Jerks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Don Cherry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fire Engines,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Unwound,
The Pretty Things,
Terry Callier,
The Mummies,
The Five Americans,
The Monochrome Set,
Marvin Gaye,
Lindisfarne,
Hardrive,
Alton Ellis,
Eden Ahbez,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Kinks,
Faraquet,
cv313,
Ludus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dennis Brown,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deakin,
Magazine,
the Germs,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Litter,
Sun Ra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gong,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joe Smooth,
Chris & Cosey,
Wally Richardson,
Alison Limerick,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.