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 Serbia and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the crunk 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
The Vogues,
Severed Heads,
Nik Kershaw,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Junior Murvin,
Shuggie Otis,
David McCallum,
Cheater Slicks,
a-ha,
LL Cool J,
Jacques Brel,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Oneida,
The Cure,
Terry Callier,
Soft Machine,
Lalann,
Howard Jones,
The J.B.'s,
New Age Steppers,
Interpol,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Martian,
The Litter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Maurizio,
Grauzone,
Wally Richardson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Main Source,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Quando Quango,
X-Ray Spex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barbara Tucker,
New York Dolls,
the Normal,
Radiopuhelimet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
F. McDonald,
Man Parrish,
Sound Behaviour,
Spoonie Gee,
Roxy Music,
Reagan Youth,
Marc Almond,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Heaven 17,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alice Coltrane,
B.T. Express,
Absolute Body Control,
Dennis Brown,
Marine Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
Harry Pussy,
The Happenings,
Mark Hollis,
Clear Light,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.