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 Haiti and from Spokane.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Donald Byrd 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Niagra,
Patti Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lyres,
The United States of America,
Marvin Gaye,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fatback Band,
the Human League,
The Last Poets,
Scrapy,
Soulsonic Force,
JFA,
Barry Ungar,
The Doors,
Amon Düül II,
Kerri Chandler,
Ponytail,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeff Lynne,
Drexciya,
The Evens,
B.T. Express,
Lindisfarne,
Jeru the Damaja,
Desert Stars,
The New Christs,
Yaz,
Jandek,
Archie Shepp,
Peter and Kerry,
Metal Thangz,
The Dead C,
Marshall Jefferson,
Leonard Cohen,
Bobby Sherman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wasted Youth,
Qualms,
John Coltrane,
Scan 7,
Negative Approach,
Cybotron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Steve Hackett,
Hoover,
Pussy Galore,
Sound Behaviour,
Laurel Aitken,
The Moody Blues,
In Retrospect,
Loose Ends,
Deakin,
Funkadelic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Q and Not U,
the Germs,
Blake Baxter,
Judy Mowatt,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.