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 Benin and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 OOIOO to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Man Parrish,
Funky Four + One,
Tommy Roe,
Pierre Henry,
The Fortunes,
The Divine Comedy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Visage,
Loose Ends,
Chrome,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sonny Sharrock,
June Days,
Index,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cameo,
The Knickerbockers,
Dave Gahan,
Skarface,
Harmonia,
Spoonie Gee,
The Walker Brothers,
Eden Ahbez,
The Kinks,
Spandau Ballet,
Soulsonic Force,
Trumans Water,
Black Pus,
The Tremeloes,
Aural Exciters,
The Golliwogs,
the Sonics,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Moon,
Laurel Aitken,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Masters at Work,
Donny Hathaway,
John Foxx,
Ken Boothe,
Make Up,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harry Pussy,
The Cramps,
Scan 7,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tears for Fears,
Pussy Galore,
Glenn Branca,
Bootsy Collins,
Lakeside,
Hasil Adkins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Symarip,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Searchers,
Ludus,
Ronnie Foster,
Godley & Creme,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Slackers,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.