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 India and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Man Parrish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Porter Ricks,
The Zeros,
The Gories,
Dead Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Susan Cadogan,
Reuben Wilson,
Don Cherry,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cal Tjader,
The Sound,
Eurythmics,
Barclay James Harvest,
Unrelated Segments,
World's Most,
The Gun Club,
Eve St. Jones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fela Kuti,
Camouflage,
Fatback Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Donald Byrd,
Ponytail,
Arab on Radar,
Hot Snakes,
Vainqueur,
Alice Coltrane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sarah Menescal,
Ituana,
Dennis Brown,
Fad Gadget,
Hasil Adkins,
Ohio Players,
Mr. Review,
The Busters,
New York Dolls,
The Monochrome Set,
H. Thieme,
Funkadelic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Archie Shepp,
Warsaw,
Radio Birdman,
Judy Mowatt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soft Cell,
Niagra,
Bush Tetras,
Tubeway Army,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Slits,
The Count Five,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cybotron,
Dawn Penn,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.