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 Niger and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Henry Cow to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Monolake,
The Offenders,
Toni Rubio,
Amazonics,
Faust,
Slave,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joy Division,
Excepter,
Black Sheep,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
D'Angelo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mr. Review,
The Wake,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Technova,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Unwound,
Drexciya,
Pagans,
Mark Hollis,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Y Pants,
Zapp,
The Residents,
Radio Birdman,
Pussy Galore,
The Litter,
Judy Mowatt,
Brothers Johnson,
Moby Grape,
Cybotron,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aloha Tigers,
Dual Sessions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slackers,
The Fall,
the Swans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crooked Eye,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Womack,
Alison Limerick,
Avey Tare,
Blake Baxter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Bananas,
Ossler,
David McCallum,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.