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 Kenya and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 CBGB's.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The J.B.'s,
Aloha Tigers,
Clear Light,
8 Eyed Spy,
EPMD,
Dead Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rapeman,
Wasted Youth,
Underground Resistance,
Flash Fearless,
The Selecter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Camberwell Now,
Wings,
Dave Gahan,
Harry Pussy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Soulsonic Force,
This Heat,
Graham Central Station,
Ultra Naté,
Jandek,
Byron Stingily,
Franke,
Gang Green,
Ludus,
The Durutti Column,
DJ Sneak,
The Gories,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
L. Decosne,
Ice-T,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bang On A Can,
Monolake,
Tommy Roe,
Television,
Nas,
Zapp,
Sällskapet,
The Litter,
Sister Nancy,
Faust,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soft Machine,
The Standells,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sex Pistols,
Davy DMX,
Black Bananas,
The Misunderstood,
Fugazi,
Sandy B,
Soft Cell,
Pantytec,
The Beau Brummels,
Josef K,
The Monochrome Set,
John Foxx,
Cecil Taylor,
The Birthday Party,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.