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 Austria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord 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 Andrew Hill to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Sound Behaviour,
Das Ding,
Josef K,
Crash Course in Science,
Skaos,
Chrome,
Vladislav Delay,
Reagan Youth,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Yazoo,
The New Christs,
Oneida,
Lungfish,
Outsiders,
Bill Near,
The Neon Judgement,
Pole,
Peter and Kerry,
Janne Schatter,
Archie Shepp,
Funky Four + One,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantaleimon,
Visage,
Moss Icon,
The Star Department,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
CMW,
The Cramps,
Dead Boys,
Bauhaus,
Inner City,
Bush Tetras,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Soft Cell,
Pere Ubu,
DJ Style,
The Human League,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Saints,
Carl Craig,
The Fugs,
Swans,
The Zeros,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Mandrill,
Rosa Yemen,
Negative Approach,
David Bowie,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Echospace,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mr. Review,
Absolute Body Control,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.