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 Azerbaijan and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 New Age Steppers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Adolescents,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter and Kerry,
Lebanon Hanover,
H. Thieme,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Residents,
The Knickerbockers,
Skarface,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ronan,
Toni Rubio,
Cluster,
Prince Buster,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sarah Menescal,
Steve Hackett,
Roy Ayers,
Supertramp,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bronski Beat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fela Kuti,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
Morten Harket,
Pulsallama,
Pere Ubu,
La Düsseldorf,
The Walker Brothers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Can,
Tom Boy,
Bauhaus,
Barry Ungar,
This Heat,
DJ Sneak,
Sällskapet,
Reuben Wilson,
Unrelated Segments,
Dark Day,
Khruangbin,
Chris Corsano,
Urselle,
Eli Mardock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soul II Soul,
Letta Mbulu,
cv313,
Delta 5,
Terry Callier,
Peter & Gordon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Anthony Braxton,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skaos,
Lucky Dragons,
Radiohead,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.