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 Kyrgyzstan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Mission of Burma to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ronnie Foster,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Cale,
The Moody Blues,
The Durutti Column,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Sherman,
Eden Ahbez,
Juan Atkins,
Dual Sessions,
Wings,
Cal Tjader,
The Black Dice,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Victims,
Dave Gahan,
Icehouse,
Pere Ubu,
The Walker Brothers,
Al Stewart,
The Last Poets,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Matthew Bourne,
Saccharine Trust,
Ornette Coleman,
The Invisible,
Sex Pistols,
Tomorrow,
Hot Snakes,
Spandau Ballet,
David Bowie,
Duran Duran,
The Dirtbombs,
Infiniti,
Sun City Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Michelle Simonal,
Marvin Gaye,
David McCallum,
The Neon Judgement,
Aloha Tigers,
James White and The Blacks,
The Kinks,
Archie Shepp,
Cluster,
Jandek,
Mission of Burma,
Nico,
Cameo,
Groovy Waters,
Bronski Beat,
Joe Smooth,
Ken Boothe,
China Crisis,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.