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 Monaco and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Harry Pussy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Echospace,
Black Pus,
Visage,
E-Dancer,
The Angels of Light,
June Days,
Robert Görl,
The Flesh Eaters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Flamin' Groovies,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Foxx,
Minor Threat,
The Dirtbombs,
Ituana,
Gabor Szabo,
FM Einheit,
Kenny Larkin,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cecil Taylor,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bad Manners,
Desert Stars,
Fugazi,
Tres Demented,
Sex Pistols,
Amazonics,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Al Stewart,
Marcia Griffiths,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minutemen,
A Certain Ratio,
This Heat,
Dawn Penn,
Loose Ends,
JFA,
Minnie Riperton,
Soul II Soul,
Crooked Eye,
Joyce Sims,
Bang On A Can,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Modern Lovers,
Make Up,
Can,
Tropical Tobacco,
L. Decosne,
Joy Division,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Von Mondo,
Faraquet,
Eden Ahbez,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Albert Ayler,
Derrick Morgan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Severed Heads,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.