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 Madagascar and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sandy B to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cymande,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scion,
Vladislav Delay,
H. Thieme,
Crime,
Deakin,
Toni Rubio,
Cecil Taylor,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Slits,
Alison Limerick,
Theoretical Girls,
The Zeros,
Altered Images,
FM Einheit,
The Monks,
E-Dancer,
The Grass Roots,
Mandrill,
The Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fall,
The American Breed,
Quantec,
Stetsasonic,
Fatback Band,
Excepter,
The Raincoats,
Chris Corsano,
Dual Sessions,
Patti Smith,
Masters at Work,
The Techniques,
Kas Product,
Wolf Eyes,
Hot Snakes,
Camberwell Now,
Electric Prunes,
Roxette,
Joy Division,
Gang of Four,
Easy Going,
John Foxx,
Technova,
Morten Harket,
Albert Ayler,
The Selecter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Index,
Junior Murvin,
Lou Reed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobby Sherman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Youth Brigade,
Bauhaus,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.