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 Brazil and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Young Marble Giants to the rap 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
John Foxx,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joe Smooth,
This Heat,
Minny Pops,
Howard Jones,
Ken Boothe,
Jacob Miller,
JFA,
Dual Sessions,
Junior Murvin,
Malaria!,
The Busters,
Bobby Sherman,
Bluetip,
Absolute Body Control,
Swell Maps,
Kool Moe Dee,
Terry Callier,
Zero Boys,
Panda Bear,
Alison Limerick,
Grey Daturas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Groovy Waters,
Silicon Teens,
Fat Boys,
The Techniques,
Index,
Shoche,
The J.B.'s,
Agitation Free,
Y Pants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Drexciya,
Black Bananas,
The Happenings,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lungfish,
Amon Düül II,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crash Course in Science,
Morten Harket,
Dawn Penn,
Spandau Ballet,
Reuben Wilson,
R.M.O.,
Bang On A Can,
The Last Poets,
Ronnie Foster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sällskapet,
Parry Music,
Bush Tetras,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Glenn Branca,
Dead Boys,
Massinfluence,
The Fugs,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Remains,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.