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 Japan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 Circle Jerks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
The Fortunes,
Black Sheep,
Chris Corsano,
Swell Maps,
The Mojo Men,
Tears for Fears,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Television Personalities,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amazonics,
Sam Rivers,
The Modern Lovers,
Wolf Eyes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Agitation Free,
Public Enemy,
Radiohead,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Byron Stingily,
the Association,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
MC5,
R.M.O.,
the Soft Cell,
Iggy Pop,
Marine Girls,
Japan,
Swans,
The Red Krayola,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
A Certain Ratio,
Michelle Simonal,
Chrome,
Organ,
Harpers Bizarre,
Susan Cadogan,
Cluster,
Scrapy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jawbox,
Heaven 17,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Monks,
kango's stein massive,
Bill Near,
Sixth Finger,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roger Hodgson,
Kerri Chandler,
Jacob Miller,
Los Fastidios,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeff Mills,
Lou Christie,
The Grass Roots,
Q and Not U,
The Skatalites,
Youth Brigade,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.