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 Iran and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Make Up,
The Smiths,
The Gun Club,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rapeman,
K-Klass,
The Pop Group,
Robert Görl,
Lou Christie,
Amon Düül II,
Gabor Szabo,
Amon Düül,
The Divine Comedy,
Underground Resistance,
David Axelrod,
DNA,
Radiohead,
Marvin Gaye,
John Holt,
Radio Birdman,
The Doors,
The Neon Judgement,
Lebanon Hanover,
Monolake,
The Invisible,
Wasted Youth,
Newcleus,
Cameo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kurtis Blow,
Judy Mowatt,
Qualms,
Cheater Slicks,
Todd Terry,
Arcadia,
The Cramps,
Graham Central Station,
Stetsasonic,
the Association,
Joy Division,
Anakelly,
Kenny Larkin,
Schoolly D,
Massinfluence,
Agent Orange,
Prince Buster,
Banda Bassotti,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tubeway Army,
Hoover,
The Flesh Eaters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Saccharine Trust,
Ossler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brand Nubian,
The Trojans,
Freddie Wadling,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.