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 Seychelles and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fugazi to the crunk 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rotary Connection,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Easy Going,
Inner City,
Nas,
The Gladiators,
the Soft Cell,
Gang Starr,
The Raincoats,
The Litter,
Wasted Youth,
The Dead C,
Young Marble Giants,
Liliput,
K-Klass,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crime,
Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra,
Terry Callier,
John Coltrane,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arthur Verocai,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slave,
Deadbeat,
Eden Ahbez,
Motorama,
Marcia Griffiths,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Brick,
Can,
Marine Girls,
Warren Ellis,
Essential Logic,
Japan,
The Moleskins,
Robert Hood,
Chris Corsano,
Magazine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Warsaw,
Infiniti,
Blake Baxter,
Iggy Pop,
Groovy Waters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Don Cherry,
The Knickerbockers,
Organ,
Von Mondo,
JFA,
T. Rex,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cowsills,
Roger Hodgson,
John Holt,
Piero Umiliani,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.