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 Slovenia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Angry Samoans to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Agent Orange,
Porter Ricks,
Toni Rubio,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Suburban Knight,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amazonics,
Average White Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Camouflage,
Loose Ends,
Mark Hollis,
Dawn Penn,
Tubeway Army,
Underground Resistance,
Crooked Eye,
Marvin Gaye,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lakeside,
Fugazi,
The Grass Roots,
The Gun Club,
Skarface,
Con Funk Shun,
Colin Newman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
Max Romeo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sonny Sharrock,
Chris Corsano,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bush Tetras,
Boredoms,
Motorama,
Ronnie Foster,
Brand Nubian,
Blake Baxter,
Television,
The Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Masters at Work,
Black Moon,
Dead Boys,
Carl Craig,
Mad Mike,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tropical Tobacco,
Robert Görl,
Infiniti,
Terry Callier,
Rites of Spring,
Lindisfarne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.