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 Somalia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gladiators to the dance 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
June Days,
Grey Daturas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Heaven 17,
The Names,
Flamin' Groovies,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Litter,
Black Bananas,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Divine Comedy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eli Mardock,
The Real Kids,
The Saints,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Byron Stingily,
Talk Talk,
The Pretty Things,
Young Marble Giants,
Roy Ayers,
Spandau Ballet,
Newcleus,
The Index,
The Leaves,
Suicide,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonny Sharrock,
B.T. Express,
Hasil Adkins,
Outsiders,
Ornette Coleman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alison Limerick,
Mad Mike,
Q and Not U,
Scion,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slick Rick,
The Smiths,
Ronnie Foster,
Spoonie Gee,
The Invisible,
The Music Machine,
Boredoms,
Lyres,
Saccharine Trust,
Khruangbin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Doobie Brothers,
Magazine,
China Crisis,
Bill Wells,
the Swans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Absolute Body Control,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Warsaw,
Traffic Nightmare,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.