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 India and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Reuben Wilson to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Crime,
Parry Music,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rod Modell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grauzone,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Names,
Angry Samoans,
Prince Buster,
Radio Birdman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Spoonie Gee,
Mo-Dettes,
Darondo,
Arcadia,
The Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
Little Man,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lungfish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Procol Harum,
Piero Umiliani,
David McCallum,
Quando Quango,
Gabor Szabo,
The Wake,
Rakim,
LL Cool J,
Rites of Spring,
The Mummies,
Depeche Mode,
Marvin Gaye,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Womack,
Lindisfarne,
Urselle,
New York Dolls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Das Ding,
Alison Limerick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Quantec,
Arab on Radar,
Q and Not U,
The Music Machine,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Sherman,
Colin Newman,
The Golliwogs,
Agent Orange,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cramps,
The Five Americans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.