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 Belize and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the dance 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Second Layer,
Anakelly,
Barbara Tucker,
Curtis Mayfield,
Skriet,
Roxy Music,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy Collins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Index,
Spoonie Gee,
Porter Ricks,
The Martian,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Trojans,
Kurtis Blow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Reagan Youth,
Deadbeat,
Essential Logic,
Black Moon,
Tears for Fears,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q65,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Count Five,
ABC,
PIL,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Görl,
Excepter,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Residents,
Judy Mowatt,
David Bowie,
Black Pus,
Siglo XX,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Toasters,
The Gladiators,
The Associates,
Make Up,
Panda Bear,
Eden Ahbez,
Surgeon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ludus,
X-Ray Spex,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-101,
the Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dawn Penn,
Zero Boys,
Dave Gahan,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.