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 Peru and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Scrapy to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Byron Stingily,
the Sonics,
The Martian,
Nils Olav,
Television Personalities,
Depeche Mode,
Duran Duran,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sixth Finger,
The Smoke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nirvana,
Laurel Aitken,
Scott Walker,
Fluxion,
The Gun Club,
Minor Threat,
Sandy B,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Cramps,
Tears for Fears,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Al Stewart,
The Angels of Light,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Moebius,
The Names,
Skarface,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joe Finger,
Cymande,
The Gladiators,
Bush Tetras,
The Stooges,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Standells,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Organ,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
U.S. Maple,
Hot Snakes,
The Last Poets,
Nas,
Lungfish,
Lyres,
Letta Mbulu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eric Dolphy,
Aural Exciters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crime,
Carl Craig,
Juan Atkins,
Ohio Players,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.