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 Dominica and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet 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 Crime to the grunge 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Bizarre Inc.,
Vladislav Delay,
The Grass Roots,
Vainqueur,
Amon Düül II,
Dawn Penn,
Cecil Taylor,
Make Up,
The Cowsills,
Sex Pistols,
the Human League,
OOIOO,
Barrington Levy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Moon,
Aaron Thompson,
D'Angelo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mr. Review,
Trumans Water,
The Motions,
Lungfish,
The Evens,
kango's stein massive,
Sound Behaviour,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masters at Work,
Section 25,
Gabor Szabo,
Rekid,
Harmonia,
Suburban Knight,
Avey Tare,
Connie Case,
Deadbeat,
Blake Baxter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radiohead,
Thee Headcoats,
John Coltrane,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Outsiders,
The Barracudas,
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
Alton Ellis,
Interpol,
DJ Sneak,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Derrick May,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amon Düül,
Ossler,
Public Enemy,
Shuggie Otis,
Intrusion,
Hot Snakes,
Erasure,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dave Clark Five,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.