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 Vietnam and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Blossom Toes to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Easy Going,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sällskapet,
The Saints,
Warren Ellis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jacob Miller,
Henry Cow,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bluetip,
Connie Case,
Buzzcocks,
The Star Department,
Spandau Ballet,
The Monochrome Set,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Beau Brummels,
Marine Girls,
Aswad,
Pylon,
Joensuu 1685,
Jerry's Kids,
Yellowson,
Pole,
Simply Red,
Bob Dylan,
Pierre Henry,
Schoolly D,
Blake Baxter,
The Fall,
Minutemen,
Dawn Penn,
The Gladiators,
The Victims,
Public Enemy,
The Real Kids,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
One Last Wish,
Quando Quango,
Jacques Brel,
The Smiths,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thompson Twins,
Television Personalities,
Ohio Players,
Cecil Taylor,
kango's stein massive,
Shoche,
Mandrill,
New York Dolls,
La Düsseldorf,
the Fania All-Stars,
MC5,
Mission of Burma,
Mr. Review,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.