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 Guatemala and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 Joe Finger to the jazz 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
EPMD,
The Zeros,
kango's stein massive,
Scientists,
The Gladiators,
Japan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy,
The Human League,
David Bowie,
New Age Steppers,
Wolf Eyes,
Graham Central Station,
Inner City,
Radiohead,
Outsiders,
Roxette,
OOIOO,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Public Enemy,
Von Mondo,
K-Klass,
The Residents,
Royal Trux,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cal Tjader,
World's Most,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Sonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Smoke,
Icehouse,
Bob Dylan,
Radio Birdman,
Ken Boothe,
Urselle,
Reagan Youth,
Rekid,
Kayak,
Fear,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barrington Levy,
Sparks,
Iggy Pop,
The Seeds,
LL Cool J,
Alison Limerick,
Pylon,
Agent Orange,
Chris Corsano,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moebius,
The Dirtbombs,
The New Christs,
The Vogues,
Los Fastidios,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.