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 Suriname and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Organ,
Liliput,
Hardrive,
Faust,
The Pretty Things,
Saccharine Trust,
The Electric Prunes,
Angry Samoans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Vogues,
The Evens,
Letta Mbulu,
Sparks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
The Monochrome Set,
Crooked Eye,
Pantytec,
Radio Birdman,
The Human League,
Livin' Joy,
Spoonie Gee,
Parry Music,
The Monks,
Duran Duran,
Don Cherry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Flipper,
Talk Talk,
The Dead C,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bronski Beat,
Barbara Tucker,
Delon & Dalcan,
Can,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiohead,
Black Flag,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Boredoms,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric Dolphy,
Donald Byrd,
Brass Construction,
Sixth Finger,
These Immortal Souls,
The Smoke,
T.S.O.L.,
Minutemen,
UT,
Boz Scaggs,
Stetsasonic,
Mantronix,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sound,
Country Teasers,
the Association,
Robert Hood,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.