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 Norway and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Joe Finger,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultravox,
John Lydon,
Fluxion,
Roxette,
Panda Bear,
The Motions,
Jandek,
Babytalk,
Ossler,
Organ,
The Doors,
Gerry Rafferty,
Animal Collective,
Porter Ricks,
Jawbox,
Rites of Spring,
Drexciya,
Procol Harum,
Lou Reed,
the Germs,
The Fall,
a-ha,
Deepchord,
Quantec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Max Romeo,
Laurel Aitken,
Boredoms,
Cybotron,
Severed Heads,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alton Ellis,
Half Japanese,
David McCallum,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Livin' Joy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sister Nancy,
Howard Jones,
Black Pus,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Moon,
Cameo,
Vladislav Delay,
Franke,
Zero Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Moebius,
Visage,
The Knickerbockers,
The United States of America,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marmalade,
Wally Richardson,
Moby Grape,
Accadde A,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.