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 Iran and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin 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 The Last Poets to the crunk 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Colin Newman,
Yaz,
Altered Images,
the Human League,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Searchers,
Liliput,
John Holt,
Animal Collective,
Deadbeat,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick May,
The Invisible,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Basic Channel,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Janne Schatter,
Trumans Water,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Prince Buster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Skriet,
Rapeman,
Dead Boys,
Harry Pussy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Japan,
The Fall,
The American Breed,
Rosa Yemen,
Depeche Mode,
Davy DMX,
Parry Music,
Nirvana,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rod Modell,
Porter Ricks,
Half Japanese,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Soft Cell,
Au Pairs,
Cybotron,
The Leaves,
This Heat,
Saccharine Trust,
Panda Bear,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mission of Burma,
Erasure,
Visage,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.