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 Finland and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Barclay James Harvest to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Ten City 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 funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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 Residents,
The Angels of Light,
Faust,
Throbbing Gristle,
Loose Ends,
The Count Five,
The Real Kids,
Fifty Foot Hose,
In Retrospect,
Chris Corsano,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kayak,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Avey Tare,
Boredoms,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Peter & Gordon,
The Pretty Things,
The Vogues,
Bootsy Collins,
The Divine Comedy,
Underground Resistance,
Electric Prunes,
Ponytail,
Severed Heads,
Half Japanese,
Yaz,
Can,
Cecil Taylor,
Massinfluence,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sam Rivers,
June of 44,
Lyres,
The Stooges,
The Wake,
Suicide,
Subhumans,
Jesper Dahlback,
B.T. Express,
Derrick May,
Amon Düül,
Cheater Slicks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Wyatt,
Youth Brigade,
John Lydon,
Blossom Toes,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
ABBA,
X-102,
Stiv Bators,
Rakim,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Malaria!,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The New Christs,
The Slackers,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.