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 Mongolia and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Circle Jerks to the funk 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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 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 Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Slave,
Rites of Spring,
Al Stewart,
Scott Walker,
Quando Quango,
Derrick May,
Goldenarms,
the Soft Cell,
Lightning Bolt,
Mo-Dettes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tres Demented,
Von Mondo,
Model 500,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
E-Dancer,
Lucky Dragons,
Popol Vuh,
This Heat,
The Fortunes,
a-ha,
DJ Sneak,
Masters at Work,
KRS-One,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tomorrow,
Lakeside,
Vladislav Delay,
John Lydon,
Crooked Eye,
The Skatalites,
Marine Girls,
Radiohead,
Camouflage,
Severed Heads,
Ornette Coleman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
La Düsseldorf,
Reagan Youth,
Guru Guru,
Josef K,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Flag,
Man Parrish,
the Germs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fear,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang Starr,
Absolute Body Control,
Neu!,
Yaz,
The Blues Magoos,
Archie Shepp,
Alphaville,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
JFA,
Albert Ayler,
The Human League,
David Axelrod,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.