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 Samoa and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Swans to the grunge 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Martian,
Scion,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fuzztones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tom Boy,
Zapp,
Todd Terry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Von Mondo,
Public Image Ltd.,
PIL,
Agent Orange,
Surgeon,
A Certain Ratio,
Model 500,
K-Klass,
Depeche Mode,
Bauhaus,
Animal Collective,
Donny Hathaway,
the Sonics,
Second Layer,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cowsills,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Blake Baxter,
Peter and Kerry,
Flipper,
Harry Pussy,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Searchers,
Babytalk,
Bobby Womack,
Underground Resistance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joe Finger,
Delta 5,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Average White Band,
Hashim,
Marvin Gaye,
Derrick Morgan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yaz,
Pole,
the Bar-Kays,
Camberwell Now,
The Electric Prunes,
Kaleidoscope,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Easy Going,
Panda Bear,
Little Man,
Anakelly,
Subhumans,
Cal Tjader,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.