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 Micronesia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sonic Youth to the punk 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Susan Cadogan,
Animal Collective,
Rites of Spring,
The Selecter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Altered Images,
Sparks,
Shoche,
The Pretty Things,
Eric Dolphy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pole,
The Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Marine Girls,
June Days,
Danielle Patucci,
Q and Not U,
The Move,
Minnie Riperton,
Maleditus Sound,
Iggy Pop,
Lyres,
Pussy Galore,
Make Up,
Blossom Toes,
Supertramp,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bobby Sherman,
Jerry's Kids,
Crooked Eye,
Depeche Mode,
Faust,
Oneida,
Radio Birdman,
Rosa Yemen,
Idris Muhammad,
New Order,
Inner City,
Roxette,
The Offenders,
Franke,
Patti Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scientists,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Procol Harum,
Derrick May,
Kenny Larkin,
F. McDonald,
The Happenings,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultravox,
Warren Ellis,
the Soft Cell,
T.S.O.L.,
Joyce Sims,
Silicon Teens,
Fat Boys,
Average White Band,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.