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 Libya and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Bush Tetras to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Dead Boys,
Mad Mike,
Crispy Ambulance,
Monolake,
The Selecter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boogie Down Productions,
New York Dolls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marine Girls,
Scion,
The Happenings,
Crash Course in Science,
Letta Mbulu,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Techniques,
Adolescents,
JFA,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ituana,
Laurel Aitken,
Wally Richardson,
Mission of Burma,
R.M.O.,
Quando Quango,
Drexciya,
Throbbing Gristle,
Half Japanese,
Freddie Wadling,
Blossom Toes,
Amazonics,
PIL,
Anakelly,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang of Four,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rites of Spring,
Electric Prunes,
Neu!,
Funkadelic,
Main Source,
The Stooges,
Cymande,
Pere Ubu,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric Dolphy,
Q and Not U,
Duran Duran,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Womack,
Inner City,
Bauhaus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Lydon,
L. Decosne,
Janne Schatter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.