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 Samoa and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Knickerbockers to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Swans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minutemen,
Amon Düül,
cv313,
The Sonics,
The Invisible,
Oneida,
Television Personalities,
the Soft Cell,
Al Stewart,
Brick,
Can,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Country Teasers,
Symarip,
Camberwell Now,
Scientists,
Sex Pistols,
Rosa Yemen,
E-Dancer,
The Doors,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
China Crisis,
Mr. Review,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cramps,
Smog,
Gang Starr,
Theoretical Girls,
F. McDonald,
MDC,
Scott Walker,
Oblivians,
Aloha Tigers,
Audionom,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Offenders,
Lungfish,
Royal Trux,
Stereo Dub,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kas Product,
The Mojo Men,
Reuben Wilson,
The Mummies,
Slick Rick,
Sonny Sharrock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
T.S.O.L.,
Duran Duran,
ABC,
the Slits,
Joe Finger,
Nico,
Amazonics,
The Star Department,
Derrick Morgan,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.