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 Tonga and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Suicide,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Soft Cell,
Al Stewart,
Bluetip,
The Dead C,
Quando Quango,
Sparks,
Arthur Verocai,
Vainqueur,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nick Fraelich,
Ossler,
Terrestrial Tones,
Peter and Kerry,
Minutemen,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacques Brel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ludus,
Excepter,
Ken Boothe,
Iggy Pop,
Alton Ellis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Japan,
Negative Approach,
Niagra,
Banda Bassotti,
Fluxion,
PIL,
Rufus Thomas,
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Das Ding,
Marine Girls,
Mars,
Swell Maps,
Rhythm & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Pussy Galore,
The Sound,
Altered Images,
Goldenarms,
Nirvana,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed,
Reagan Youth,
Monks,
Marcia Griffiths,
New York Dolls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Motions,
Fela Kuti,
The Monks,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.