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 Sri Lanka and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Slick Rick to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Al Stewart,
Cybotron,
Wolf Eyes,
Yellowson,
Robert Görl,
T. Rex,
Tom Boy,
Quantec,
Television,
Siglo XX,
Neil Young,
Grandmaster Flash,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gun Club,
Max Romeo,
Bush Tetras,
The Evens,
Joey Negro,
Camberwell Now,
Rapeman,
Marc Almond,
The Angels of Light,
the Association,
Skriet,
Deepchord,
Minnie Riperton,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Oneida,
New Order,
PIL,
Vladislav Delay,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Excepter,
Sister Nancy,
Spandau Ballet,
The Doors,
Nick Fraelich,
Crash Course in Science,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Modern Lovers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Susan Cadogan,
Qualms,
A Certain Ratio,
The Knickerbockers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Erasure,
The Beau Brummels,
X-102,
Kerrie Biddell,
The New Christs,
The Fugs,
Trumans Water,
Josef K,
Pere Ubu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lee Hazlewood,
Main Source,
David McCallum,
Ossler,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.