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 Iraq and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magma,
Blossom Toes,
Hashim,
Derrick May,
Easy Going,
Gastr Del Sol,
Groovy Waters,
Gabor Szabo,
Aloha Tigers,
Yaz,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Blake Baxter,
John Coltrane,
Spandau Ballet,
Essential Logic,
China Crisis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Beau Brummels,
Das Ding,
Nico,
Isaac Hayes,
Simply Red,
Fela Kuti,
ABBA,
Delon & Dalcan,
Subhumans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scrapy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeff Lynne,
Connie Case,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Parry Music,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harmonia,
David Axelrod,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Glenn Branca,
Sound Behaviour,
Leonard Cohen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Reuben Wilson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jawbox,
Barrington Levy,
Public Enemy,
Minor Threat,
Swans,
Black Bananas,
Alice Coltrane,
Marmalade,
Sandy B,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.