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 Tajikistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the jazz 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide 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?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Pus,
The Black Dice,
Buzzcocks,
Mars,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Flash Fearless,
Tommy Roe,
The Remains,
Rod Modell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Los Fastidios,
Clear Light,
Eve St. Jones,
Thompson Twins,
Rufus Thomas,
Panda Bear,
Depeche Mode,
Suburban Knight,
The Young Rascals,
Popol Vuh,
Can,
Monolake,
Soulsonic Force,
Au Pairs,
the Slits,
Oblivians,
Thee Headcoats,
The Leaves,
Reagan Youth,
Little Man,
Jandek,
Duran Duran,
Kas Product,
Mark Hollis,
The Evens,
The Dead C,
Wasted Youth,
Average White Band,
New Order,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joey Negro,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roy Ayers,
Pantytec,
Essential Logic,
K-Klass,
Ludus,
Gang of Four,
Ultra Naté,
Guru Guru,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Charles Mingus,
John Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
Moebius,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Animal Collective,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.